Unmasked
by Megknsis
Summary: Fleeing for his life, Erik becomes lost in the tunnels and stumbles out into the forsaken mountains of a distant country, where he stumbles upon another lost soul. I'm rating T just to be safe...
1. Chapter 1

Unmasked

…**I swear to God I have a thing for using the word mask in a title. I didn't plan it.**

**Yes, I'm still working on Mask…never fear. I just wanted to publish this because I felt like it, and the idea came into my head. And yes…you read the tags right. It's a crossover between Frozen and Phantom of the Opera…don't laugh. I just decided to go for it. I also published this on Wattpad, because that's where my friend reads things, and she begged me to…and I figured I'd publish it here, as well. You guys all have a right to read this as well…so here goes.**

**I own zip. Zero. Nada. In other words, nothing!**

Chapter 1

Erik ought to have been able to find his way.

He'd lived in these tunnels all his life, and he could keep his head in the near-total darkness of the twisting passages, lit only by the sputtering torch he carried. But his head wasn't very clear now.

Erik swore as his shin met a small rock projecting directly upward, which of course he hadn't seen till the last second. He barely avoided tripping and limped on, cursing in all of the few ways he knew how, but he almost welcomed the pain which raced up his leg. It helped him forget, if only for a few precious moments, about the mental anguish which threatened to drive him insane. If he hadn't gone insane already. And he'd seriously considered the possibility, sometimes in the past few hours.

In the dank, twisting labyrinth, all he saw was Christine's face, and all he heard were her words of love, the ones he'd longed to hear for so many desolate years. Only the cruelest fate would have torn them apart at that moment. But he had heard the distant shouts, saw the flickering of the torches far away but drawing near, and he knew he had to run for it or perish.

_I should have taken her with me. I should have asked her, begged her to come, but no. I am a fool, a damned, awful fool. I should have brought Christine._

Erik shook his head in a vain effort not to think about that. Even if he turned back now and found his way back to his living space, all he would find were the vengeful searchers destroying his organ, tearing up his music, and his own death at their hands. Though that might be welcome now, it wouldn't accomplish the one thing he wanted most; to find Christine and change her mind.

He couldn't explain what made him urge her to stay, flee through his mirror, and leave the only woman he'd ever cared about behind. The same urge which had led him to hide his face, the same fear which for years had made him unable even to show his masked form to Christine, was the same one which made him drive her away. He couldn't have her now, not after all that had happened, all he had done. She had just kissed him to save Raoul's life, not out of love for him.

The thought would have made him smile, if his broken heart had allowed for a smile. That was what it must have been, of course. How could any woman with eyes bear to even take a second look at his mangled, hideous features, let alone live with him, and them?

Erik brushed his hand savagely across his eyes. He thought he had shed all the tears his eyes could produce in…how long had he been in these tunnels? Minutes? An hour? A day? Longer than that? He had totally lost track of time.

Suddenly he saw a door, only a few feet ahead. He stumbled towards it. It ought to be the one leading…north. He wasn't sure exactly where it let out; for once, he, the Phantom of the Opera, who ought to know each and every single tunnel and passage beneath Paris, was totally lost. He had no clue where he would come out. Nor did he particularly care, so long as he could hide his face and his cursed name.

He automatically reached up to make sure his mask was in place, then cursed for the hundredth time that night as he realized it was gone. Christine—of course. Christine had torn off his mask back in the opera house in front of everyone.

The memory still seared and throbbed with the agony of supreme humiliation. He had kept his face hidden for decades. When he first went into hiding, he vowed no one would ever see his face without a mask again. He would not be an object of horror and amusement—not again. He couldn't bear the thought that anyone would see his face, and know him for the monster he was, not until Christine came.

She had been the first one he had thought could lead him out of his lonely existence. She alone understood him, and for a while he had dared to dream she cared for him…the way he cared for her. And then the woman he loved, trusted, more than he did any other living being, exposed his deepest, darkest secret; exposed _him, _the self he'd run from all his life. She had wounded him more deeply than anyone had since his childhood.

"Shut up," Erik muttered through his teeth as he reached the door and started to struggle with the bolts. The heavy, ancient wood groaned and refused to yield. "Get out of my head, damn you, get out!"

The next second, he felt horrible. How could he curse Christine? Even if she had broken his heart and stepped on his dignity, he couldn't say a bad word against her. Gritting his teeth, he pushed back the bolt with all his strength, and the door yielded to his efforts.

Erik cringed back in instinctive terror from the door which slowly, creakily swung wide, remembering in time, but then he breathed a sigh of relief. Stars twinkled silently at him and cold, crisp night air flowed into the black, musty tunnel. He could see no people, no houses, not a light in sight. Nothing but a silent, snowy landscape as far as the eye could see.

Erik hesitated, then stepped out of the tunnel. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. His chest swelled with the sharp, frigid air. He closed his eyes and felt tears leak down his cheeks, turning cold on his face.

He opened his eyes and glared up at the stars. They shone brighter than anything he'd seen in forever, the cold making them all the clearer. Clear as Christine's eyes, her ringing voice…

Erik couldn't hold it together any more. He had been able to stay sane up till now. His courage, a modicum of sanity and a small, yet still indomitable will to live had sustained him up to this point, pushing him forward. But now he had reached his destination, and the full realization of his loss crushed him to the ground. He had escaped, and now he had nowhere to go, nothing to look forward to, nothing to live for ever again.

He crumpled to the ground and covered his face with his hands, loud, convulsive childlike sobs breaking out of him like the whimpering moans of some pathetic animal, alone and in pain, giving voice to its agony in the only way it knew how. He buried his face in the soft, powdery snow, feeling the cold seep into his face, and his tears and saliva mingling with the white purity, contaminating it. He dug his fingers into his face, driving his nails in and leaving small red crescents. His face was hideous enough, it had ruined him. It had taken away everything and everyone he loved. Why could he not strip it off like the mask he'd always worn?

_It isn't a mask. It's who I am. I am ugly as my face. My soul is twisted, stained black and red. I am a monster. An outcast, a devil's child. They were right. They were all right._

Suddenly, something settled over him light as the wing of a huge butterfly. He started up, gazing wildly around. He thought someone had found him, someone had come for him. Even here, even now he couldn't be alone with his grief.

But instead of a curious face which would twist and expand as the intruder broke into a terrified scream, he saw…nothing.

Erik turned and looked all around, and then as he sat up a little and gazed in surprise. A dark, royal purple cloth, someone's cloak or cape, had settled over him.

Erik lifted the thing up and gazed at it. It looked very fine, simple but well-made. And it was a cape. Someone had worn this thing and in some way lost it. And it had drifted on the wind and found its way to him, like a message of comfort.

Erik shook his head in simple wonder at this strange thing. He sat, just gazing at the cape for a moment, his heaving chest slowly subsiding to a normal rhythm of breathing. He almost forgot his tears in surprise and curiosity at this small miracle.

Suddenly he sat up with a start. The owner of this cape must be searching for it. They were undoubtedly close by. They might find him, and it, and when they saw him…

Erik glanced around wildly. His eyes fell on the doorway in the side of a hill, still wide open like a mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to go back into that tunnel. What would he do there, eat the dirt and lurk there as he always had, until he died of thirst and hunger? He didn't particularly mind the thought of dying, but he would not die like that.

Erik heaved a great, shuddering sigh. If the owner of this cape found him, let them. He could hardly be worse off than he was now. And…a tiny, bitter smile broke over his face. They need not even see his face. Whoever had lost this garment had given him just what he needed. Surely they wouldn't miss a small section off this cape.

He reached into his pocket and thankfully, the small, handy knife he always carried was there. Erik drew it out and sliced off the very top portion of the cape, measuring with eyesight and mental math alone, making sure it had enough material to cover his face. He took great care to leave the little flaps on either side, the ones which would fasten the cape at the wearer's neck intact.

When he had finished, he surveyed his work with satisfaction. Another minute was spent in holding the section of purple cloth up to his face, and making sure it covered all his features. Then he cut out two eye holes, and tied the makeshift mask onto his face, tying it behind his ears. It fit him perfectly.

No one would ever shudder at him again. Erik did a little bit more trimming, cutting out two more small flaps so the wearer couldn't complain about the little he'd taken off, then surveyed the cape with satisfaction.

Suddenly, Erik shivered and then he had to frantically untie and yank off his mask so he could sneeze over his shoulder. He looked around and then he smiled again, bitterly. Running desperately for his life, he hadn't thought to grab anything but a torch, not even a cloak or an extra jacket.

Then he looked at the purple cape and shrugged. If the owner of the cape came along, they could have it. In the meantime, he intended to use it. Erik had nowhere to go, and he didn't even know where he was now.

So, he put his mask back on, then he scooped snow away with his hands until he had created a patch of bare, damp ground and stretched out on it. He drew the cape over him and curled up beneath it. Whoever it belonged to had a shorter, slenderer body than he did-he had to huddle up for it to cover him completely.

Erik had no idea how many hours he would lie awake, but soon his eyes grew heavy. He tried to fight it for a while, but then he let himself go and drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_A/N: I took a guess about how long Erik had been beneath the opera house. If somebody happens to do research and finds that I'm wrong, tell me. Don't sue me._

"Hello!"

Erik ignored the voice. He was too sleepy not to. If only they would leave him alone…he'd been asleep, finally forgetting it all…

Something like a stick poked his cheek, and he rubbed it languidly. "Go away," he groaned.

His body shivered with cold, and he reached out to tuck the cape more securely over him.

Wait. His cape. Where was the cape?

Erik opened his eyes, but instantly closed them with a groggy, inarticulate sound of pain and protest. Brilliant, searing light stabbing through his eyeballs and straight into his brain. He turned his face towards the ground and opened his eyes then, staring at the wet dirt.

"Hello!" Something tapped his shoulder, once, then twice, then again and again in an irksome constant beat.

"Go away," Erik snapped, swatting at his shoulder. The tapping stopped, mercifully, but the cheery voice did not.

"I'm Olaf. What's your name?"

"None of your business." Erik closed his eyes and lay back down on the dirt, rubbing his closed eyelids. Maybe, just maybe, if he lay here long enough, he could go to sleep again, and freeze so he wouldn't have to wake up.

That is, if this Olaf would _stop talking._

"What are you doing up here?"

Erik squeezed his eyes shut tighter, gritting his teeth. Maybe if he lay still, Olaf would leave him alone.

"Are you asleep?"

Erik resisted the impulse to say yes. That might defeat the purpose.

"Are you dead?"

At that, Erik clenched his fists. If he only had his noose now…Olaf had no idea how fortunate he was.

"Oh. Okay. Nope, I'm pretty sure you're not dead. His hands just moved." Olaf sounded as though he were talking to himself.

"What's your name?"

That did it. Erik sat bolt upright, forgetting momentarily about the light, and closing his eyes with a curse when his eyes brimmed instinctively with water.

"Why the devil won't you leave me alone?!"

"Oh! I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" Damn the voice. It sounded so innocent, so absurdly contrite and hurt. Erik wasn't going to be moved by this.

"What do you think?" he snarled. The sunlight wasn't assaulting his closed lids in quite such an agonizing flood. Erik could actually make out vague shifting tints in the darkness.

"Um…I…think so?"

Erik snorted. "You thought correctly."

He tried to open his eyes halfway.

His first impression was of bright, but not blinding sunlight. Erik kept his eyes half open and turned his head to look for a tall shadow of a man.

But instead, all he saw was vast white paleness, vague shapes, including a white one right in front of him. He paid no mind to it and kept turning. "Where in the name of hell _are_ you?"

"I'm right…what's hell?"

Erik began to make some snappish retort, but then the bland, innocent curiosity in the speaker's tone caught him up short.

"You don't know what hell is?"

"Well, I'm still new. Elsa only made me last night, and I haven't seen anybody else except you."

Erik's eyes widened involuntarily. "You-," he shook his head, but the action failed to dismiss the absurd statement from his mind.

What was this Olaf person? Was he mad? He had to be. No one-day-old infant could speak, and if a man (the speaker sounded male) believed he were one day old and didn't know what hell was in this day and age, he had to be out of his mind. As for the statement that someone named Elsa had _made_ him…Erik wasn't really eager to contemplate that. Maybe he meant his mother.

"Who is Elsa?" he finally settled on the least complex question. Antagonizing a madman, even one who seemed harmless, might be a bad idea.

He of all people ought to know _that._

As Erik spoke, he kept turning, squinting, desperate to see who and where Olaf was, and he began to notice the landscape around him.

The place he'd stumbled out of was evidently a cave in the side of a steep mountain. Off in the distance, he could see a forest-coated slope stretching into a vague gray-white-greenish expanse. Above him, he saw mountain stretching hundreds, thousands of yards towards the sky, with something glittering high up along one side.

Erik turned to the left. He saw nothing but more snow along the ground.

Then Erik turned to the right.

A short, white blocky figure less than half his height stood next to him, with the lost purple cape hanging from one arm…which appeared to be made from…wood, just like the other.

Then, a hole _opened _in the head-like lump, and Erik's world was turned upside down when the _voice, _the very same voice he'd heard since he woke up, came out of the creature's mouth.

"Elsa? She built me."

Erik was a cynic when it came to wonders.

His own parents had rejected him because of his face, and he'd grown up in a circus, scorned by all. No depth of cruelty could shock him; no wonders could stagger his mental capabilities. Most people wouldn't believe that _he, _and the underground labyrinth where he dwelt, could exist.

Thus, seeing what Olaf actually was, Erik did the proper thing for someone such as himself: he scrambled back on his heels as fast as he could, screaming at the top of his lungs.

* * *

"What's wrong and why are you waving that knife at me?"

It was the tenth time Olaf had repeated the question, but the first time that said question had actually percolated through Erik's panic-ridden brain.

"What are you?" His throat felt raw and if his heart were beating any harder, Erik felt like it would pound right out of his chest. Probably he was about to have a heart attack. And then maybe he might wake up in bed beneath the opera house and find it had all been a dream. If only. He should be so lucky.

Of course, the way his luck had always behaved, chances were he wouldn't be.

"Um…well, as far as I can tell, I'm a snowman." Olaf examined himself with cheerful interest, as if he still hadn't gotten tired of it. "What are you?"

Erik started to form a reply, but then he stopped dead. What _was _he? As a circus freak, he'd known exactly who and what he was. He didn't need the people and the overseer to tell him every day that he was a monster, a devil's child. They'd all said it, and he figured it must be true. But someday, he would escape this place, and hide where his devil father himself couldn't find him, and maybe he could become something new, make his own name. They would all be sorry. And for the last twenty years, he'd done exactly that. He'd become The Phantom of the Opera, signed all his letters O.G. Nobody saw him, but everyone knew his new name. He had become a living legend, the true owner and operator of the Opera Populaire. But he'd been driven out. The demon exorcised now wandered the abyss with nowhere to reside. He didn't even know _where _he was, and he could be certain that whatever godforsaken place he'd stumbled into, the name of the Opera Phantom wouldn't mean a thing.

_What are you?_

Erik shook his head to clear it. "I'm…I'm Mr. -," he thought quickly. The name he hadn't used for so many years…it could serve as a second mask. Nobody remembered it by now except Madame Giry, and she was miles away. And she would not tell.

_What if she did? How else did that infernal Count find your lair? How did the other men? No one else knew the secret, except possibly Christine…_

But that was too painful to contemplate.

"Erik." He pronounced the words with a strange feeling that he was talking about somebody else. "Erik…O.G."

"Erik Ogee." Olaf nodded sagely, then smiled and spread his stick arms wide. "I'm Olaf-,"

"You told me that," Erik muttered.

"Oh yeah, I did. And I like warm hugs!" Olaf looked up at Erik with a kind of eagerness that suggested he wished Erik to make the implied move.

Erik did not do so. He tugged his hands into his armpits and suppressed a shiver. "Where am I?"

"Um…not sure. I know it's a mountain." Olaf pointed upward. "Elsa's palace is that way."

"I don't care about Elsa, whoever she is," Erik snarled through his teeth. "Where can I find shelter?"

"Well, the nearest place is Elsa's palace." Olaf replied innocently.

"Marvelous," Erik muttered, and added a few choice words in a tongue he'd almost forgotten.

"What's that?"

"Nothing." Erik turned. "You're free to leave now," he added, imbuing his tone with heavy sarcasm.

"O…kay." Olaf looked around, and then began muttering to himself. "Let's see. Elsa's palace…that way. What's down there? Hmm. I've never been down that way."

He began to shuffle down the snowy slope towards the frosted forest below, talking to himself in that voice as he went.

Erik shook his head and turned his back, glad to be rid of that…that _thing_. What in God's name was that? How did he come to talk if he was made of snow?

He tried to recall the last time he'd seen a snowman. One time, when he was about ten years old, on Christmas morning, he peered out a window and saw children in the nearby square laughing, throwing snow at each other, and building strange lumpy people out of the white powder which coated the earth like an ermine wrap, and felt a strange longing to join them in that freedom and fun. But then the door opened, letting in a draft of chilly air, and he shuddered and fled to a hiding spot, until the Giry girl's voice called him out to receive the bit of Christmas goose she'd managed to smuggle to the opera house. Even on Christmas Day, she thought of him.

Erik snarled and tucked his arms tighter around himself, slogging upward. What was the point of remembering such things? They would only torment him with glimpses of when he'd come closer to happiness than he ever had or would, when he'd had a home. Now he had nothing, not even his dreams. He was nothing.

All at once, Erik realized that he'd been trudging steadily upward, in the direction Olaf had indicated as the way to Elsa's palace. Whoever the devil was Elsa? Olaf had mentioned something about her…making him. If he'd been an ordinary snowman, that would make sense. But…Erik's brain spun with possibilities. He simply tried to shove the whole issue to the back of his mind. It didn't make any difference anyway.

So why had he started slogging uphill again?

"Damn, damn, damn, damn," Erik gripped his thin hair and fisted his hands in it. "What is wrong with me?" he muttered, pacing back and forth in the snow.

A biting wind whipped his clothes about, and he realized, not for the first time, that he'd come woefully unprepared to deal with such weather. Last night he'd resigned himself placidly to the thought of death. But now he'd been awakened. His blood was pumping through his veins, chilling in his face and fingers and toes. He'd seen the sun, and he felt more alive today.

_God, am I so weak? I have nothing_ _left to live for. No wife, no love, no music, not even my wretched hiding place of a home. I could lie down in the snow and stay here until my bones froze, and _no one_ would care._

Erik stood, wavering, and found he'd started shivering. He had no reason to want to go on. What was the point? It would be far easier to just give up right now. There was no point in someone like himself fighting, idiotically clinging to the cruel joke men called life.

And yet, a tiny, almost extinguished little part of him kept repeating that he had to find shelter, at least temporarily, until he could eat and drink and get some warm clothes.

Erik brought himself up short. Warm clothes? Food? What was he thinking? He didn't want to live—most of him didn't.

He was a fool.

A low rumbling growl startled him. He glanced down at his belly, and recalled that he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. He'd been too excited, too anxious, and then too busy, to eat the rest of the day, and he'd had no time last night.

_I suppose I could get some food, _Erik conceded. _If I'm going to die, I could at least do it on a full stomach. Then I could freeze without starving._

Erik suddenly realized the depth of this dark idiocy, and began to laugh. His laughter echoed through the sharp, brisk air like the strong laugh of a madman. He was thinking about eating so he could die with as much comfort as possible.

He really was insane. His situation had finally descended to such a level of pathos that everything became nonsense.

_Where could I even get food? I don't know who this Elsa is, but she wouldn't want to see me. And I don't belong in a palace._

Erik suddenly recalled his mask. A slight hint of smile began to quirk his lips upward. If no one saw his face, he could pose as anything, anyone. He might even be admitted to the dwellings of human beings without fear. So long as he made it clear that all he wanted was food and drink and leave to be on his way. It would make more sense to die here, anyway—where would he go? He didn't even know where he was. Olaf didn't know. Maybe Elsa might.

Erik hesitated, but then he realized that once he'd started planning what to say to Elsa and whoever else might be living in her "palace", he'd already made a decision. He reached up to make sure his mask was firmly in place, then began hiking up the steep slope.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, first of all, I apologize SO much for making you all wait over TWO MONTHS. I knew it had been awhile, but I didn't realize I made you wait that long. As I told you, I got caught up in another multichapter (which I'm still writing) and school started in August, so life has been somewhat busy.**

**However, I fully intend to make up for it now. I used to do my main writing for Mask-my other story-about once a week. (Or once every two weeks.) But now I'm going to try and alternate, work on first a chapter of this, then a chapter of Mask. It'll draw completion out for both, but at least you guys won't have to wait an ungodly amount of time, AGAIN, for your updates.**

**Please forgive me and continue to read and review! Thank you so much for all the support so far!**

* * *

The palace which should have been silent but for the noises its owner made suddenly echoed with the deep, barely audible sound of the massive front door sliding open.

A pale, slender hand froze on the ice goblet it had just spun out of thin air. Large blue eyes widened, and sharpened with a familiar alert fear.

The willowy body of the young woman turned in an instant. She gazed towards the doorway, then took a cautious step forward. Despite her effort, there was a limit to how quietly she could walk on ice.

Slowly, quietly, Elsa drew towards the door. Just within the opening, however, she hesitated. Inch by inch, she poked her head around the edge of the doorway. Finally, Elsa peered fully around the corner, then she stared. _Oh, no…_

A tall man dressed in black pants and a thin white shirt picked his way across the smooth floor of her front hall with remarkable ease. As he turned, Elsa saw a purple mask instead of facial features.

She ducked back into the shelter of the door, her mind and pulse racing. Who was this intruder, and why was he here? What did he want? Had she been discovered after all?

Glancing down, Elsa noticed the ice thickening on the floor at her feet. "Get it together," she muttered, pacing back and forth. "Calm down. It's okay. Calm down. _Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel_. _Con_-,"

"I hope I'm not disturbing you in your…meditations."

Elsa nearly shrieked at the deep sarcastic tone ringing through the silent room. She whirled, nearly tripping over her own skirt.

The masked man she saw downstairs mere moments ago now stood in the doorway less than five feet away.

* * *

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Elsa's voice rose in pitch with very other word. She could feel her power rushing through her, running in veins that thickened the ice at her feet, and she tried to choke it back.

_Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, DON'T FEEL._

"I was directed here, by a…person, named Olaf."

"Olaf?" Elsa frowned, suddenly distracted by the name. It tugged a distant memory, but before she had time to pursue it, the man continued—rather impatiently.

"Yes, Olaf. He said I could find food and shelter here. I'll just be here for a little while, so if you don't mind…,"

"Um…," Elsa thought furiously. So this man was just a stray traveler. If she gave him what he wanted, he woud leave.

"I also require some warm clothes," the man added with startling brusqueness which, somehow, did not offend Elsa. Strangely, his rude bluntness felt almost…refreshing.

And, it showed his genuine desire to travel on his way as soon as possible.

"Oh! Of course, I can get you some-," Elsa stopped. She'd created snow "food" for herself, and eaten it with no problem. But since this man didn't have her powers, could he subsist on snow? Elsa seriously doubted it.

"Ah…I'm afraid we don't have any food here…that you would care for." She smiled thinly, backing up a few steps, hoping the man wouldn't notice.

Dark gleaming eyes studied her through the eyeholes. The mask gave his face a frightening impassivity and lack of life.

"I have eaten _many _things, my good madam," he replied sardonically. "I assure you, I am quite capable of digesting any kind of edible food."

_Edibility_ is_ the problem, _Elsa thought but didn't dare say.

"Very well." She gave him a weak smile, and moved towards the door. "If you'll excuse me a moment, I'll go get you some food."

Wordlessly, the man stepped aside. Elsa hurried through the open doorway and down the stairs, trying not to look back or to feel the man's eyes following her.

When she reached the room where she'd created an ice table, Elsa spun a plate and a set of utensils out of ice. She then began to make an "apple" and a "pear" and a "roll" out of snow.

"While I appreciate the gesture, I would prefer not to eat snow."

Elsa whirled with a gasp of fear. Ice began forming on the floor again.

_Conceal, don't feel, Conceal, don't feel. Come on, control it!_

"I…don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you think I am a fool, girl?" The man all but snarled, stepping closer. His bearing held an unmistakable threat, and Elsa felt her powers prickling almost beyond her will.

"N-no. Please don't—don't be angry. I just-," Elsa abruptly stopped stuttering, for two reasons. One, she realized that she sounded like a frightened little girl cringing from a parent's rebuke, not the former queen of Arendelle, and the current queen of winter wastelands. Second, the man had stopped advancing on her seconds ago, and simply stood waiting for her to explain.

That alone seized her attention. His first concern didn't seem to be what he'd just caught her doing. He hadn't called Elsa a witch or a monster—yet. And he'd only gotten angry because she'd tried to lie to him, not because she had powers—she hoped.

"I'm-," Elsa took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. Lying would accomplish nothing at this point. All she could do was tell the truth, and hope for the best. And if she absolutely needed to, she _could_ defend herself.

"All right. Fine. I'll tell you everything. But you have to promise me that you won't reveal what you are about to hear—to _anyone_. Not to some stranger you meet along the road, not to your family—do you promise?"

The man's eyes narrowed a little and surveyed her thoughtfully. Elsa noted a surprisingly lack of anger or malice.

"I don't have any family to tell." The man averted his gaze and shook his head a little, as if clearing it of a cloud.

"Neither do I." The sentence was out before Elsa could think about it, but she thought, with a pang, that she had told the truth. "Except for a sister…but…she and I don't—talk anymore."

The thought of Anna produced a familiar ache, but a brief spark in the stranger's eyes told her all she needed. Plainly, he too understood what alienation meant.

It didn't exactly make Elsa happy, knowing this. But she still felt curiously lightened. She actually smiled, albeit sadly, at the masked man.

Thinking again of the mask made Elsa wonder why he kept that thing on even while indoors, where the cold (possibly a reason to wear it, outside) was less severe.

But then she remembered her gloves, and how skittish she'd felt about the whole issue, and decided not to ask. It was none of her business, anyway.

"So what is this great secret that it's so imperative I not tell _anyone_?" The man sounded mocking, only not in cruelty, but as if he wanted to sound sarcastic. His effort, however, felt rather hollow.

"So, do you promise to keep this visit, everything that we say and do, and the fact that I live here a secret?"

Dark, piercing eyes met hers with a frank honesty even Elsa could not doubt. "I promise."

Elsa exhaled. She'd never willingly shared her secret, even with Anna, so the effort of speaking felt almost suffocating. But somehow, she began to get the words out.

"I…well, I have the power—to make things, from ice and snow."

She expected the man to make some sort of sarcastic comment like, _Oh really? _But he didn't.

"I was…born with it." Talking came more and more easily now that the first sentence, heavy with years of shame and deceit and concealment, had passed Elsa's lips.

"My parents explained that since my parents drove the spirits of the trees out of their homes when they built their castle, they cursed my mother…while she was pregnant with me, and so…well, now I have these—abilities."

The man's mask shifted a little, as if he'd wanted to speak, but then he fell still.

"I tried to keep them a secret for a very long time, but finally…I couldn't. My parents were dead, and the city where I lived didn't want a freak, so I left. And now I live here." Elsa gestured around the room.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," she added as an afterthought. "And I don't need to live near people. I'm fine where I am, so long as nobody knows I'm here."

Watching the man's reactions, Elsa glimpsed a strange gambit of emotions running through his eyes. Something like sympathy began, and then a strange wild blaze, almost like hope followed. Then, however, a dark shadow fell over the flame. But still, Elsa could see a surprising amount of…understanding, she decided. Apparently the stranger identified with at least one aspect of her life.

Elsa sighed internally. It didn't matter. No matter how sympathetic this man might feel, no matter what they had in common, he wasn't going to stay. And he couldn't stay, in any case. She'd already hurt one person with her powers—possibly two, if the ambassador from Whistleton had broken or sprained anything in that fall. She didn't want to cause any more harm.

_And that's not including what I did to Anna…at least she's safe now. She'll never get hurt again._

_But _is_ she? What if all those people decide she's cursed, too, and run her out, or throw her in prison, or-_

Elsa shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind with a burst of will. Anna could prove that she didn't have her powers.

_But how?_

_There's nothing I can do. If I went back and defended her, it'd just make things worse. She has that Prince Hans to help defend her. He stayed with her when I was running out of the city. They're in "love"—at least he'll stick up for her. She can prove she doesn't have powers, somehow. She'll finally have someone. She can live her own life and be happy, now that I'm gone. Anna will be-_

"…wasn't my imagination."

"What?" Elsa blinked. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, the ice forming around you when I first spoke to you wasn't my imagination."

"Oh." Elsa flushed, and smiled rather awkwardly. "Yes…when I get upset or, or nervous, it's harder for me to control my powers."

"An inconvenient factor," the man commented.

Elsa laughed, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. The man looked a little startled, but not as startled as she felt. She couldn't recall how many days(weeks) ago she had laughed, really laughed out loud. Could it have been…months?

A mental check confirmed the truth, and Elsa felt rather dumbfounded. She'd never thought about that before. But it made all too much sense. She hadn't really had much to laugh about in her life, especially since her parents died. So little had gone on, every day leaving the same dull, lonely track. And then the past two days brought her enough excitement to make up for the past nearly-eleven years.

"What is your name?"

"Hmm?" Elsa started again, and again mentally rebuked herself for her inattention. "Oh. I'm Elsa."

"Elsa," the man repeated. The sound of her name in his rather odd accent sounded strange but, at the same time, undeniably pleasing.

"What's your name?" Elsa's heart nearly missed a beat as she realized she'd just told the hidden story of her entire sheltered life to a man whose name she didn't even know.

_I really have changed, _she thought.

"My name?" The man sounded startled, and considerably less eager.

"Yes. What's your name?"

The stranger hesitated. Elsa almost thought he would refuse to answer. At last, he spoke.

"My name is Erik."

* * *

**Sorries! But I'll give you another chapter very, very soon, and update at fairly regular intervals from now on! I PROMISE!**

**I created the story of how Elsa got her powers. They never explained it in the movie, so for the purposes of this story, I made one up. ****I also made up the fact that Elsa was seven at the time of the accident, and was crowned when she turned eighteen. Just roll with it.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**A/N: Finally, here I am! I apologize for the awful wait…life has been CRAZY. I have been desperately trying to improve my position in College Algebra (suffice to say that the left side of the brain is not, never has been, and never will be, my best friend.) Add to that my four other classes…yeah, I know it's a lot. I underestimated college when I first registered. Turns out it really is a second job. Next semester I am SO going for just four!**

**Besides, every now and then I want to get out with my friends. I want a life, people! Geez! (Kidding. I mean, I do…But seriously. College sucks away your time and energy like an elephant making a jar of Kool-Aid disappear. I saw that happen. Trust me. I know what I'm talking about. **** )**

**But even so…yeesh. I shouldn't make promises I don't keep…but I swear I really did intend to have this up just a week or two later. Life interfered. I'm really sorry…and I WILL try to do better in future. This chapter is a little longer than usual, just for you guys!**

**Oh, before I get going, a note…I had to work the timing for this out in my head. To me, since Anna had to ride on through the night and a day before even reaching Wandering Oaken's Trading Post, Elsa took a night and a day to reach the North Mountain. So the night Anna spends at the trading post is the same night of Let It Go, and the same night that Erik stumbles out into Arendelle. And then in the time it took Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf to reach the mountain is the time that Erik reached the palace. I know, might seem a little much, but he had to climb straight up the mountain, the hard way, which probably took longer than hiking up a path like the other three got to do.**

**Yes, this is taken out of a scene from the movie. The story follows the plot of Frozen, but afterwards it'll deviate and really take on its own path.**

* * *

"What is your name?"

"Hmm?" The young woman started again. Her aura of regal, yet casual poise impressed Erik—especially since he could almost smell the tension, the nerves on her. She had not fully relaxed; one guarded wall always stayed up. Her fear left her absolutely tense as a wire, and yet she kept up the façade as if nothing bothered her. So far, her control had not snapped.

This young woman definitely impressed him—especially since he wondered why she felt such intense anxiety. It was nothing strange to _him_—the emotion came as naturally to him as breathing. He had _lived _in it, always on guard, instilling his own terror as a guard against the deadly danger of discovery, for years.

"I'm Elsa."

"Elsa," Erik repeated. The name did not sound familiar—it wasn't French at all, really. _Yet another confirmation. I really have left it all behind._

_Don't think about it don't think don't think-_

"What's your name?"

"My name?" Erik froze. He suddenly felt incredibly exposed.

_Who am I? I am nothing, a Ghost without an Opera. A teacher without a pupil, a lover without the object of my desire. _He was _nothing_, nothing but a ruined, masked face and a name that no one knew, an outcast no one would ever care about.

"Yes, your name." Elsa looked patient, and curious. To Erik's surprise, he realized that the underlying fear had begun to subside. The sensation of people..._relaxing _in his presence was totally alien, and...so very oddly satisfying it made Erik's throat hurt.

He swallowed despite it, forcing himself to focus.

"My name is Erik."

A distant smooth rumble distracted him, and he turned immediately.

"What is that sound?" he asked as he turned back towards the young woman.

Elsa's beautiful blue eyes had blown wide open and in them, Erik saw a storm of stark terror. Her posture, too, had changed, giving her the slight crouch and tense posture of a cornered beast.

Erik wondered what about discovery frightened this girl so much. Obviously she was a fugitive, much like himself, but few people would climb this mountain to get to her. Besides, if she really wanted to, she could make a knife out of ice sharp enough to slit someone's throat or stab them through the heart.

Her eyes lighted on Erik and she started. "Oh," she said, "Could you...give me a moment? Just stay here. Please." She added the last almost desperately.

"Are you concerned for me?" Erik thought he spoke casually enough, but he could hardly be blamed if his voice sank into low vulnerability. Nobody, except Madame Giry had ever worried for his safety, not really, and even she knew that, given the resources, he could protect himself quite well. Of course, there was the time with Christine and the kiss...but he refused to dwell on it. Even thinking on the subject for a moment made him feel his loneliness afresh.

"Of...course." Elsa appeared almost surprised that he would even ask such a question.

The ache in Erik's chest now became a sharp pain. He blessed the mask, which might hide the very un-Phantom-like tears which has suddenly welled up.

"You...you are kind." He could manage no more than a low whisper.

Elsa now looked startled. Then her face softened, and a look entered her eyes which made Erik think she might be feeling the same thing.

"Thank you." She too, spoke very low, and offered him a wavery smile.

Then she turned and vanished out the door, leaving Erik standing still. He couldn't explain the strange...lightness he felt, as if the conversation had lifted off half of a heavy burden.

At last he remembered the visitor (or visitors) and walked quietly to the door. He stepped to the side, and peered around.

A single girl stood in the middle of the entry hall, staring up and around. A magenta fur wrap covered her body and most of her head, except for two copper braids which stuck out the front. She walked carefully across the icy floor towards the stairs.

"Anna?"

At the clear, low voice, Erik stiffened, and then he stared. Elsa had moved into the open, and now stood in the middle of the great main hall. A beam of light fell through a window, making her white-blonde hair light up and crystals sparkle along her dress.

"Whoa, Elsa!" Anna turned and Erik could see her expression. Her eyes had flown wide open and she stared at Elsa with something like awe. _Who is this girl, and how do she and Elsa know each other?_

"You look...different. It's a good different...," she turned and made a grand gesture around her. "And this place...it's amazing."

"Thank you." Elsa actually smiled, which somehow made her look younger, almost child-like. "I never knew what I was capable of."

Erik frowned. Clearly this girl also knew about Elsa's powers. But since Elsa hadn't sent her away or been attacked by her, it seemed she was friendly.

_She doesn't look like the sort of person who could kill anyone,_ Erik noted. The assumption made him feel several surprising things. In his world, long marred and marked by blood and secrets, Erik had seldom met someone who exuded such a free, cheerful spirit-someone pure. Christine had been the first, and he'd never imagined meeting other genuinely good people, like Elsa and this Anna seemed to be.

"...sorry about what happened." Erik realized Anna had spoken again. "If I'd have known…,"

"No, no, it's okay." Elsa's voice rose a little and she backed, almost imperceptibly, towards the stairs. "You don't have to apologize. But you should probably go. Please." She twisted her hands together as she spoke, and Erik could see the intensity of the nerves she struggled to control.

_Why is she so afraid if this girl Anna isn't a danger to her?_

"But I just got here." Anna moved toward her, smiling brightly, still apparently oblivious to Elsa's tension.

"You belong down in Arendelle."

"So do you."

_Arendelle. _Erik mouthed the name silently, and repeated it in his mind, over and over, turning it over. For the first time, he finally had a name to give this region, some mental compass.

Not that it would do any good—he'd never heard the name before in his life. But then again, Erik had lived underneath the Opera for years, so he'd undoubtedly missed out on geographical changes. He'd never been particularly keen on politics.

"No, Anna." Elsa sounded firm, yet so sad and resigned, in a way that felt wrong for someone so young, whose life should have promise and fun, before adult cynicism set in.

_Remind you of anyone, Erik? _The voice sounded disturbingly like Madame Giry's.

_Shut up, _Erik told it.

"I belong here. Alone. Where I can be who I am, without hurting anybody."

_Without…hurting anybody?_ Erik frowned. What had happened to make Elsa so fearful? Had she, too, taken a life? It seemed impossible. But something clearly had produced that fear of self, of…her powers, perhaps?

"Actually…about that," Anna began, but the sound of a voice outside the door, and then the rumbling slide of the doors themselves interrupted her.

_NOW who is it? Remote mountain, my foot._

"Wait." Elsa squinted as the doors swung open. "What is that?"

Erik turned to follow Elsa's startled look and gaped. No...it wasn't possible...but he already recognized the voice, echoing cheerily throughout the hall, "Hi! I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!"

_Oh, for the love of...what is that thing doing here?_

Olaf came hurrying up and then stopped in front of Elsa. He folded his...hands? in front of him like a child at prayer.

"You built me," he said very quietly. "Remember that?"

"And you're alive?" Elsa didn't appear scared out of her mind, but she did look considerably startled.

"Um...," Olaf surveyed his body. "I...think so?"

"He's just like the one we built as kids." Anna knelt beside Olaf.

"Yeah." Elsa replied, her tone strangely soft, almost shy.

Erik surveyed the situation with growing interest. Clearly, these two young women had known each other for a long time-either childhood friends or relatives was his guess.

"Elsa, we were so close." The hope in Anna's face and voice made something twist inside him. "We can be like that again."

The brief flash of longing that Erik saw in Elsa's eyes pierced him right to the core.

_She might say she wants to be alone_, he realized, _but she doesn't. Deep down, she craves to be accepted, to be around people who care about her._

Then the longing vanished and Elsa got a faraway look in her eyes. They widened, and then a shadow fell across them. All at once, a single emotion broke through, clearing the storm, an emotion Erik clearly recognized-horror.

"No." She folded her arms and turned her back on the redhead. "We can't." She began climbing the stairs. "Goodbye, Anna."

"Elsa, wait!" Anna got up and started following her up the steps.

"No, I'm just trying to protect you!"

"You don't have to protect me, I'm not afraid!" Erik stepped outside of the door, seeing Elsa disappear through a doorway at the top of the steps. Anna had made it halfway up.

Then she began to _sing,_ and Erik stared.

Anna had a startlingly good voice, not quite the same quality as an opera singer's but clear and penetrating. "_Please don't shut me out again, please don't slam the door! You don't have to keep your distance anymore…,"_

She reached the top of the stairs, and headed through the doorway.

Habitual timidity gripped Erik, but he forced himself out through the doorway. He stole quietly over the hall floor towards the stairs, praying Olaf wouldn't see him.

Then, just as he started to mount the steps, he heard, "Oh! Hi, who are you?"

Erik whirled, hissing a curse through his teeth.

"Not a word," he hissed at the snowman.

"Oh! You're the-,"

"Shut up!"

The snowman's eyes widened. Ridiculously enough, Erik actually thought he saw hurt in them.

_Oh, no…I feel guilty about upsetting a SNOWMAN. Something that shouldn't even be alive._

"I'm—sorry." It sounded rough, but Erik wasn't exactly used to apologizing. He didn't have much practice at normal conversation in general.

"Oh, it's okay." Olaf immediately seemed to dismiss his rudeness. "I won't say a word." He put a wooden hand to his mouth. "Sssshhh…,"

Erik felt an odd tugging sensation somewhere between his chest and his gut. His face twitched in a peculiar way before he turned and hurried up the stairs.

As soon as he passed through the doorway, he saw the redhead heading up another staircase. Erik waited until she had reached the top before beginning to climb.

The young woman's voice continued to echo down to him. "_…first time in forever, we can fix this hand in hand. We can head down this mountain together. You don't have to live in fear,"_

Curiosity began to bubble inside Erik's mind. The past twenty-four hours had left him numb and paralyzed by despair and heartache, but for the first time, his mind began to stir him back into life. Here was a mystery, something to make him think, and excite his curiosity and keen intellect, if not to heal his broken heart.

"_Cause for the first time in forever, I will be right here." _Anna's voice sounded warm, open and genuine and inviting, so much so that Erik almost wanted to introduce himself. She reminded him a lot of Meg Giry, actually—more down-to-earth and ordinary than his angel Christine, but still quite charming in her own way, warm and open and personable.

Come to think of it, the parallels between the two girls and the nature of their relationship seemed eerily similar. Christine and Meg, Elsa and Anna.

_Christine. _The stab of pain felt almost familiar by now. Erik tried not to let his thoughts wander down that path, but too late.

_Don't think about it. Don't think. Don't remember. Don't remember._

He reached the top of the stairs. The voice came from inside a room off to his left. Erik drew closer with more caution, and then stepped to the side of the doorway. Slowly, he peered around the corner, and saw the two inside, both with their backs to him.

Then Elsa turned. Erik slipped back around the doorway, but he could still hear her soft, low voice.

"Anna," she said, and then all at once her voice rose into song.

The sound stiffened Erik's spine and straightened his shoulders. Elsa was a singer, too, and even better than her sister. Anna sounded like a girl, barely reaching young womanhood. Elsa sounded like a full adult, the timbre of her singing mature and surprisingly developed.

"Please go back home, your life awaits. Go enjoy the sun and open up the gates. I know you mean well, but leave me be. Yes I'm alone, but I'm alone and free!"

_Alone and free…_

A small, grim, sad smile touched Erik's face under the mask. That description had fit him, in his old life, to a T.

"Just stay away, and you'll be safe from me...,"

_Safe from…what?_

Erik frowned. Safe…why would Anna need protection from her friend? The mere idea of Elsa, the ethereal, gentle ice queen hurting anyone struck him as not only ludicrous, but outrageous.

"Actually, we're not." Anna's blunt reply broke through his reverie.

"What do you mean you're not?"

"I…get the feeling you don't know…,"

"What do I not know?"

Curiosity overcame caution, and Erik slowly looked around the door. He saw Anna's arms move in front of her, and she sang simply, rather meekly,

"Arendelle's in deep, deep, deep, _deep…_snow."

"What?" Erik barely heard Elsa's gasp, but he saw the sudden change in her face.

"You kind of set off an eternal winter." Anna's speaking voice broke in. "…everywhere."

"Everywhere?" Elsa's stunned face told him instantly that she really had no idea.

Then the full meaning of Anna's words hit him dead on.

Impossible. It couldn't be…Anna couldn't mean what she'd just said. He'd accepted Elsa's explanation of…powers. He'd had no choice after seeing them with his own eyes. And Olaf was just another part of what this mysterious ice queen could do. But…_setting off winter? Eternal _winter?No human being could do that. It seemed fantastic, something that belonged in the mouth of a tale-teller, spinning yarns for a group of wide-eyed children, not a concrete, actual fact.

But then he remembered Olaf, and saw again the ice sculptures forming before Elsa's long, pale hands with a single gesture, and he wondered. Erik's conception of reality had received wracking shocks today, and he no longer felt quite as sure of himself as he would have once.

_If snowmen can talk and women can make things out of ice with just…_nothing_, then what couldn't be real? Who's to say what's impossible?_

The thought shook Erik to the core. He hadn't thought anything could, after all the things he had seen and experienced.

But he obviously had that wrong as well. All at once, Erik received an unsettling vision of a new, foreign world, where strange shapes formed on every horizon, and nothing remained entirely sure, where no safe, unalterable natural laws existed. Erik actually felt something not unlike a shiver from within his body.

"…can just unfreeze it."

"No, I can't." Elsa's creamy skin had gone ivory white. Even from the doorway, Erik thought he could detect the whites of her eyes, and the fact that her breathing seemed to have picked up speed. For the first time, her rigid poise had begun to really crack. "I…I don't know how."

"Sure you can!" Anna's voice still sounded strong, encouraging and firm as ever. "I _know_ you can."

Elsa's mouth opened, then closed. She actually looked sick.

He almost wanted to step out of the shadows and tell Anna to slow down. Elsa clearly couldn't handle any more pressure. She needed time to take this in, to think.

However, he stopped himself as soon as the idea entered his head. _Fool. Idiot, do you _want _to be caught?_

_Caught by whom? There's no one here who knows your old identity. You're actually safer now than you ever were._

Elsa's voice interrupted him before he could do more than realize the startling fact. Every note practically throbbed with tension, and she started to turn as she sang, pacing, singing more to herself than to anyone else. Erik thought he might have imagined it, but he thought he saw a small swirl of wind-blown snow begin circling her body.

"_Oh, I'm such a fool, I can't be free…,"_

"_For the first time in forever…," _Anna began to sing, too, her clear sweet voice sliding straight through Elsa's low tormented phrases.

The sound of footsteps startled Erik out of his fascinated stupor. He turned instinctively and saw the shadow of a male form running lightly up the stairs.

Erik froze, torn between his desire to stay and the flight reflex. But finally, the realization, _what good can I do? _and the nearing figure pushed him away. He withdrew into the shadow of another doorway and stayed. The two women's voice still held him spellbound, and he could still see Elsa from the angle at which he stood.

"_No escape from the storm inside of me…,"_

"_We can work this out together-,"_

"_I can't control the curse-,"_

"_We'll reverse the storm you've made-,"_

"_Oh…," _Elsa straightened up, but Erik knew better than to mistake the brief flash of calm in her body as anything more than a last-ditch effort to hold on to her composure. _"Anna please, you'll only make it worse!"_

The swirl of snow became too thick for Erik to imagine he'd dreamed it up. As the two women sang back and forth, the snowstorm intensified and sped up, swirling faster and faster.

"_Don't panic…,"_

"_There's so much fear!"_

"_We'll make the sun shine bright…,"_

"_You're not safe here!"_

"_We can fix this thing together. We can change this winter weather…,"_

"_Ah…," _ Elsa's voice rose, straining as it reached higher. She buried her hands in her pale gold hair and turned with the snowstorm that almost obscured her completely. "_I CAN'T!"_

The snow all gathered itself up into the middle of her body, and then blasted out as she flung out her hands. Erik heard a muffled gasp, and he swore his heart missed a beat.

_Oh God. What happened? Dear God, what did she do?_

"_Stay away, and you'll be safe from me."_

"Anna!"

Erik started as a blur ran past him. He'd actually forgotten the person running up the stairs. Once again, curiosity trumped danger, and he drew close to the doorway.

Anna slowly rose to her feet—when had she fallen, with the aid of a young blond man. Olaf had also come hurrying behind him, and now stood beside the two. Erik couldn't tell much about the youth from the back, but the sound of his voice indicated his general age, and the agony of concern in his voice told him clearly that he had a more-than-friendly attachment to the redhead.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." The girl spoke with added force, though she still leaned on the young man's arm. "I'm fine."

"Who's this?" Elsa's voice rose, and she backed up. Erik wondered if she even noticed it. "Wait. It—it doesn't matter. You have to go."

"No, I know we can figure this out together!" The pleading in Anna's voice, in her whole body actually pained Erik to watch. All at once he saw another similar scene, albeit with different players.

"_Please, Raoul, it's useless!"_

"How?" Elsa's cry held all the anguish and fear of her tormented song, the same storm of emotions that Erik saw in her eyes. She was pushing Anna away, even against her will, even though it was plainly tearing her heart. "What power do you have to stop this winter? To stop _me?"_

"_Take him! Forget me. Forget all of this. Leave me alone, forget all you've seen!"_

"Anna, I think we should go." The young man glanced around. Veins of ice spread through the pillars, the entire length of the floor, and ominous rumblings and cracklings began to sound.

"No, I'm not leaving without you, Elsa!"

Elsa's face practically crumpled. The distance made it uncertain, but Erik thought she blinked back glistening moisture from her eyes.

"Yes, you are."

She threw her hands outward, and a puff of steamy snow rose into the air.

Erik hardly noticed as the steam solidified and grew into a snow giant at least three times the size of any of them. His mind echoed with the anguished cries of another who had thrown away the thing he cared about most—not his friend, but his angel, the love of his life.

"_Swear to me, never to tell of the secret you know of the Angel in Hell! GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!"_

The rumbling sound of great feet jerked him out of his pain. Erik blinked furiously against a haze of tears—when had that covered his eyes?A gigantic creature made entirely of snow had scooped up Anna, the young blond man, and Olaf in its big hands and was tromping towards the doorway. Slipping quickly into the adjoining room, Erik saw the massive shape as it moved past and heard the indignant cries of Elsa's three visitors, mixed with the thundering footsteps.

Erik stood in the middle of the cold, empty room, hearing nothing but the relentless _thud-thud _of his heart beating in his ears. He could feel every harsh breath as it struggled out of his mouth from his chest.

"_Go now…,"_

Erik screwed his fists into his eyes and squeezed them shut, his teeth clenched rigidly. _I'm not the Phantom of the Opera. It's all gone, it's all over. I will never hear or play the Music of the Night. I'm stronger than this…pathetic, pathetic, useless, monster, murderer…_

Erik lowered his fists from his eyes, and opened them, trying to forcibly steady his breathing.

The sound from a nearby room caught Erik's attention. He listened, and thought he could hear it again—a peculiar, rhythmic series of noises which still sounded human.

Sobbing. Somewhere, a female voice was sobbing.

Erik shook himself, stirring suddenly into life. What was wrong with him? He couldn't even stop pitying himself and wallowing in his own impotence long enough to think of someone else? He'd entirely forgotten that Elsa must be suffering, too, almost as much as he.

_Pathetic. _Erik shook his head again. No, he would not fall back into that again. Moving a bit hesitantly at first, Erik walked quietly towards the other room, and towards Elsa.

The ice maiden lay—or knelt—in a crumpled heap on the floor, her bowed face hidden by the long, soft braid which fell over the shoulder closest to him. Her slender, glittering back heaved in deep, wracking sobs whose intensity belied the soft sounds she emitted.

His feet stopped just within the doorway. What could he do? He was nothing, no one, a homeless outcast who hadn't had the sense to try and cling to the one thing which could make his pathetic existence into a life worth living, and enjoying.

_What comfort can I possibly give this girl?_

The answer presented itself with quiet, unavoidable certainty. _Because she is also alone. She has no one. If I cannot comfort her, I can at least let her know she isn't the only one who suffers this way._

Erik moved into the room with a new resolve. Unbeknownst to him, his feet regained their old purposeful, agile stride for the first time since he left Paris.

* * *

**I know…I'm sorry! I promise I'll update soon! I can't bear to leave Elsa in her misery, after all.**

**Wow…I didn't intend to write over four thousand words, but oh well! It worked out for the best! You waited an extra long time, you got an extra-long chapter. Au revoir, darlings!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Hola! I'm back, as I promised! Oh, and by the way…these are authors and stories you need to check out. Like, immediately. They are **_Heard as the Outcasts Hear_ **and** _Elsa's Phantom, _**both by** Orange Galen, **and** _Angels of Song and Ice_ **by** Onyx Faye. **These two amazing authors have written some truly beautiful Frozen/Phantom crossovers, and not only are they talented, they are equally awesome people—so far as I've gathered from my contact with them. And since their stories are great, and they were kind enough to glowingly recommend this story—yeah, THIS ONE!—I figured that the very least I could do was to point more readers their way! After you read this, of course… ;)XD**

**Credit goes to Andrew Lloyd Webber for a tidbit of his lyrics, and the credit for the second song goes entirely to Vienna Teng (despite what I had Erik say in the chapter…only applies in my story universe!), who wrote the sweet, gorgeous Lullaby for a Stormy Night. (Needless to say, you should also check that out.)**

**Enjoy!**

**Here's a response to a guest review, and one that I had from chapter 3:**

**Christine: **Thanks a lot! I'm really glad you're enjoying this story!

**Guest: **Wow! So enthusiastic! You made me very excited with your awesome comments! And okay…you're a guy. Not sure why you mentioned it, but good luck, dude.

* * *

The tears didn't start until she heard the thumping footsteps of the snow giant leaving, and Anna crying out in protest. Then it all came crashing down, until Elsa's chest hurt.

_I have to do this. I have to protect her. I can't let her near me, not ever again. It's best this way. I won't hurt anyone ever again._

Thinking of that didn't help. For some reason, it actually pulled the tears into her eyes.

_I won't see her again. I won't see anyone else again. Ever._

That did it. If she'd had a way to prepare for it, she might have been able to hold back. But Elsa could feel her power surging out of her. If she didn't do something, she would probably freeze the entire world.

So she fell to her knees on the floor and let the tears flow. A momentary thought about the traveler, Erik, popped into her mind but the wave of grief washed it away. What did it matter? In this moment, nothing mattered, nothing except her pain.

The sound of quiet footfalls heading her way pulled at her attention, but Elsa couldn't have stifled her sobs if she tried. She couldn't recall the last time she'd cried like this—audibly, wet and freely, with low strangled moaning wails like a child's. Pressing her hand over her mouth merely muffled the noises.

Then the footsteps stopped. Elsa could sense a man standing over her, silently. Some irrational thought told her it was her father, but she knew her father was dead.

A light touch on her shoulder made Elsa jump. But then she froze in surprise. Someone's firm hand had lighted on her shoulder and stayed there, making slight circling motions with the upmost gentleness.

Elsa gulped back a sob, and then she gasped, but not for breath. Soft, soothing and persuasive, yet somehow possessing a passion and sincerity so clear it transfixed her even in her grief, the voice of a man had begun to sing, right close to her ear.

"_Wandering child, so lost, so helpless,_

_Yearning for my guidance…,"_

Elsa sniffled, and nearly choked on swallowing a sob.

"_Too long you've wandered in winter,_

_Far from a fathering gaze…,"_

The voice seemed to stroke some hidden place within her, caressing and soothing all her hurts. Elsa couldn't form the words to choke out questions, ask this man—_Erik, it must be Erik—_how he knew of her pain, how he knew of her loneliness without even the sporadic comfort of her parents' visits. She could only shake with weeping, her sobs growing more intense but quieter.

"_You resist me,_

_Yet your soul obeys…,"_

_I can't resist, _Elsa wanted to cry, but her tears left her temporarily speechless. She could barely breathe by this point, but the hand stayed, the thumb making gentle circles on her back, right by her shoulder blade. Even locked in her room, she'd never known exactly how deprived she was of physical contact, how starved her soul and body had grown for even the simplest touch from another human being. Some part of her protested, warning that _it wasn't safe, keep your distance, go away_! But Elsa couldn't bring herself to move. Part of her, a supremely selfish part, couldn't even bring itself to care. She _needed _this.

The man paused, and his fingers stilled. But then he began to sing again, another song. Elsa held still, barely daring to breathe lest she disturb him into stopping. She had small experience with music, but she knew without a doubt that she had never heard a more beautiful voice.

"_Little child, be not afraid_

_The rain pounds harsh against the glass_

_Like an unwanted stranger_

_There is no danger_

_I am here tonight."_

Elsa swallowed, and realized that she'd all but stopped crying without even realizing it. Her breath still came in trembling gasps, but her tears had stopped flowing. She hadn't been sung to like this in years. After she'd retreated into isolation, her mother would come in every night and sing to her, sit in a chair by her bedside and croon familiar lullabies until Elsa's eyes fell closed. But after about two years, those nights became less frequent. Often, her mother would simply say, "Goodnight, Elsa. Sweet dreams." Then she would kiss her and simply leave. By the time she'd reached her tenth year, the singing had stopped altogether. Now for the first time, some of that comfort, the care of childhood, had returned.

"_Little child, be not afraid_

_Though thunder explodes_

_And lightning flash illuminates your tearstained face,_

_I am here tonight,_

_And someday you'll know_

_That nature is so_

_This same rain that draws you near me_

_Falls on rivers and land_

_And forests and sand_

_Makes the beautiful world that you see in the morning…,"_

"Who are you?"

Elsa didn't realize she'd whispered it aloud until the man's singing stopped and his hand stiffened.

"Are you all right?" The voice confirmed his identity, to Elsa's wonder. So far, she'd only heard his voice rise in impatience, or speak of fairly trivial conversational things. But the quiet, real concern in his low baritone seemed to pierce her to the heart. She forced back another wave of tears with great difficulty.

"No." Strange as it seemed, she felt a complete lack of tension from Erik. It was as if confessing her true feelings cut off yet another shackle from her past, and he _understood_ that.

"What…what was that…that song you sang?" She raised her face.

The grey eyes held her still the moment she met them like a physical restraint. All the feeling, the storm of emotion, pain, loss, memory, and wistful longing nearly overwhelmed her.

"It was…like a lullaby I heard in the cir…as a child. I overheard a mother singing something like it to her babe. The song always stuck with me, and when I wrote it down, it turned into that."

"You wrote that all by yourself?" Elsa knew she sounded astonished. She probably looked like a wide-eyed child to this man, especially with her tearstained face.

"Yes." Erik looked rather surprised, as if he wasn't used to this sort of response.

_Maybe he doesn't get praised for his work. Well, he should! Perhaps he hasn't shown any of his songs to the world. He should. This man's a genius._

"You should write more songs," she said. "And you should sing them in public, so people can hear them, and know who wrote them. You'd be world famous if you did that."

Erik let out a dry bark, but whether the laughter stemmed from disbelief, irony, or something else Elsa couldn't tell. "People have heard my songs, Mademoiselle. They simply don't know who wrote them."

"Why not?"

Erik hesitated, and then he shook his head, averting his eyes. "For a multitude of reasons."

Elsa recognized the evasion. She felt another building ache in her chest at the end of that one brief moment of openness, but she understood. So she simply reached out for one of the hands lying on the floor close to her knee.

The moment she touched his hand, her skin prickled. Warmth began spreading through her fingers. Elsa stared at the hand, the long, strong, slim fingers. Her throat felt strangely dry, and she had to think of what she'd meant to say.

"It was beautiful," she stated simply. "And I'm…glad you shared it with me. Thank you."

The gray eyes came up to meet hers, and Elsa's breath caught again. The look of simple wonder, and gratitude seemed more like a child's emotion than an adult's, but behind it Elsa saw hints of lonely years, incredible isolation and longing and unfulfilled hope. This man had gone unrecognized, perhaps even unnoticed, for a long time.

Then they softened, and the look made Elsa's throat close up again. Her heart missed a beat, and her mouth fell open at the sudden touch of a hand on her face.

"You're welcome." The tone of Erik's face caressed her as his hand did. Fingers brushed across her face, wiping at every drying, salty stain. "You meant it." He sounded so surprised, yet so grateful, and vulnerable at the same time.

Elsa's eyes widened, and her heart started to thump so fast she felt sure it would beat right out of her chest. Erik's eyes gazed into her own, full of a strange, searching look. A slight roughness on the tips of his fingers indicated calluses. He had wiped off most of her tears, yet his hand stayed on her face, sending waves of heat through her face.

The eyes and the purple mask which covered the rest of Erik's face blurred suddenly, and a hot drop blazed its way back down Elsa's face. She could feel it stop against Erik's finger, and run into a line along it. Erik wiped it almost absently.

"I…," Erik blinked, and pulled his hand back away from her face. A guarded look fell over his eyes. "thank you."

"You're welcome." The choked sound of her own voice surprised her. Elsa wiped another two fresh tears off her cheeks and took a shaking breath.

_Get it together. _She wiped her eyes with her palms and took a deep shaking breath. That one simple action, a brief touch lasting only a few moments, nearly undid her completely.

_I must be losing it._

Erik stood in an easy, fluid motion, though his hand shook as he braced himself on it. He held out a hand towards Elsa in a curiously elegant gesture.

The ghost of a smile stole over Elsa's face. _I almost forget I'm a queen sometimes—or I used to be. _She reached out and grasped the hand. A tingle passed through her whole arm as Erik pulled her to her feet with surprising ease.

"Thank you." She smiled at Erik, withdrawing her hand with a slight feeling of regret. "Sometimes I forget I'm a queen-,"

She broke off with a slight gasp. Erik's eyes widened.

"You're a queen?" His voice rose.

"No!" Elsa shook her head hard. She took several breaths, realizing too late that the syllable had almost exploded out of her. "Not anymore. I mean…yes, I used to be a queen. But…that's changed. My sister Anna is queen now. The people don't want me there anymore."

_It's better this way. I'm a menace if I stay. Oh…oh god, even now…I'm causing winter even in Arendelle. That's miles away! How is that possible? But how do I stop? I didn't even know I was doing it? Oh God…this is what the trolls warned about. This is what my father was afraid of. I should have listened, oh no oh no nonono…_

"…that girl was your sister?"

Elsa blinked. The question didn't register for a moment, but once it did, she realized who Erik meant. He must have seen at least part of their conversation.

"Yes," she admitted, dropping her eyes. No point in lying, anyway. What did it matter? Nothing did—except figuring out a way to bring her powers back under control again. She needed to figure something out…

_I think I made a mistake…_

"Elsa…,"

Elsa raised her eyes almost involuntarily, and saw an unusual quality in those expressive eyes, in Erik's very posture…uncertainty. He seemed almost bashful about whatever he meant to say.

"I…I know we have only just met. You have no reason for taking my advice. However, I would suggest…implore that you consider what you're doing before you make a decision you cannot undo."

Elsa's jaw tightened. A nervous knot coiled in her gut. "What do you mean by that?"

"I...," the man swallowed, drawing Elsa's attention to the strong muscles of his throat. She forced her eyes upward, and kept her gaze steadily fixed on Erik's masked face.

"I too, had someone that I loved, more than anything." The quiver in his voice seemed to belie the past tense. "But I pushed her away. First through my…my madness, and my…deeds, then through my own stupidity. I could have had _everything-,"_

Erik's voice had grown more passionate, and more choked with emotion, throughout the last two sentences. Finally, his breath shuddered out in a hiss behind his mask, and he clenched his fists. His body quivered as if with extreme effort to control himself. Elsa felt her heart ache for the man's unknown pain, but she didn't know what to do. She'd never dealt with this. So she kept silent, turning her eyes politely away until he regained his composure.

"But I lost it all." Erik's voice regained strength, slowly. "I do not pretend to know what you're going through, or the reasons behind your actions. But I do know what I see, and I _do not want _you to make my mistakes. I do _not _want you to end up like me."

Elsa stared at the man for a long time. Those few words had raised a turbulent whirlwind of emotions within her. She could not doubt the man's sincerity. But she couldn't immediately agree with him, and his words stirred up pain, resentment, bewilderment, and self-doubt so deep she could barely see her way through the storm.

"I have my reasons," she said stiffly, quietly. "I don't like it, but I have _no choice_. You must believe me on that."

Erik looked away, and let out a sigh. Elsa could feel his disappointment, and his conflict, but he said nothing further for several moments.

"I should be going," he said quietly. "Do you have any warm clothes or food?"

"No." Elsa looked away, suddenly feeling awkward. A sense of great sadness washed over her. "Nothing that you would be able to use. I'm…used to the cold. It doesn't bother me."

"Then…I shall be on my way." The same awkwardness seemed to have overtaken Erik as well. He looked everywhere in the room, but then met her eyes. The gray orbs glowed with a sad, yet strangely bright light. "_Adieu, _Elsa."

"I…don't know what that means."

"It means goodbye in French. People say that where I come from." Erik's mask shifted a little. Elsa got the feeling that he'd smiled slightly.

"Oh. I…goodbye, I guess." Elsa smiled at Erik, trying to put her gratitude into that one expression. But just as quickly as she managed it, sadness broke over her again, so strong her throat ached again. How could she feel so strongly about this man, for heaven's sake? They'd only met minutes ago, yet she already felt a loss at the thought of being alone again.

All at once, she couldn't bear to look directly at the masked man anymore. Elsa looked at the ground.

"Goodbye." The feet turned away, but then they paused. Erik stepped closer, and then his strong, gentle hand scooped up her own.

Startled, Elsa glanced up. Erik's eyes held a peculiar, unreadable look as he bent over her hand. He paused three times before he pressed his lips lightly to her knuckles, then withdrawing quickly like a shy child.

Elsa couldn't help smiling, looking right into his eyes. Her own felt suspiciously moist. "Adieu," she said softly.

Erik stood still for only a moment, then he turned and moved out of the room with surprising swiftness. In seconds, he had gone.

Elsa slowly sank down to the floor. There she sat for a long time, staring at the floor.

* * *

**Holy crap…I'm actually making myself tear up here.**

**Don't worry, there will be fun and more comfort in the future! Olaf will make appearances, as will Anna and Kristoff, and our two main protagonists won't always be stuck in this slough of despond. I PROMISE!**

**Until that time, for God's sake go and watch Frozen again, or something happy to make up for all this angst and heartache I just dumped in your laps. If it's any consolation, all the depression you may have experienced was just experienced DOUBLY by me. I had to WRITE the damn chapter. Jeez…I gotta go see something funny now…good lord…**

**However, to that, I must add: I'm VERY sorry to have to say this, but I will be nowhere on this site for the next couple weeks. Even my other story isn't going to get any more updates during this time. I have finals from December 8****th**** to the 11****th****, and I want to do well on them—even the ones in the classes where my grades are already fairly high—which is most, except for…you guessed it. Math. Sigh…but basically, the EARLIEST POSSIBLE date you could expect me back is December 12****th****. I know, it sucks. But it's life. You gotta do what you gotta do.**

**Wish me luck! Leave your thoughts in the handy little box below**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**A/N: I know, I know, I'm a cruel, wicked wench who can't give regular updates. I will say that I honestly did believe I would get this done by the 12th or a few days later. But then the Internet modem at our house crashed, and so we've had to get that crap fixed, and then I went on vacation with my family, so I was M.I.A. for two and a half weeks. However, I was not idle, since I did leave you guys on a cruel cliffhanger, so I made pretty sure I'd be able to get this up the first full day I was back home. So you guys won't have to wait for-freaking-ever until the next chapter, because a series of complicating events like that don't happen often. I won't give specific promises, but I will get back to you MUCH sooner than I did this last time!**

**In case anyone's curious, I did have a pretty fun vacation. We spent most of it up North visiting family and it was awesome, even if we weren't at home for Christmas. (So yes, that tells you I live in the South. That's all most of you will ever know about my location! MU-WAHAhahaha!)**

**It's still good to be back, though. I hope all of you have had a truly merry Christmas, and are and will have a very happy new year!**

**Anywho, onward to the story I KNOW you want!**

* * *

The blast of winter air went straight to Erik's bones. He shivered, and trod onward at a faster pace. He still had only the purple cloak which he'd taken off and left at the door, to wrap around him. It offered a little comfort, but it kept on flapping in the wind.

Erik headed across the smooth ice platform, then down the long staircase, clinging to the baniste.r Every step he took felt heavier and harder, as if it took him further from home and into more loneliness.

_Where am I supposed to go? What do I do now? _He thought of Arendelle and snorted. If they didn't accept Elsa, how could he delude himself into thinking they would accept him for long? There would be whispers about his mask, always, and the fear of exposure…_no. Never again._

Erik neared the bottom of the stairs. Then, three steps from the bottom, he stopped. A long stretch of perfect, dazzling snow lay ahead of him, but then a long vista of snow-covered land.

_What am I doing? I can't stay with her. Elsa doesn't want me there. Nobody ever does. Nobody ever will._

The icy chill seeped through his trousers as Erik sat down heavily on the steps, but he didn't care. He settled his head onto his knees. There was no point, no goal, no home, nothing. What would it matter where he went, or if he went?

_I am nothing. I am NO ONE._

Far off in the distance, a deep _boom _sounded. Erik paid it no mind.

_Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom._

This sounded unusual. With every repetition of it, the volume and nearness grew. Erik froze.

_Boom. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. __**BOOM.**_

It finally occurred to Erik that looking about him might, just possibly, be a good idea. With astonishing difficulty, he raised his heavy head.

The snow giant Elsa had created lumbered up the slope, directly towards him.

For about five seconds, Erik sat perfectly still. Slowly, he rose, holding his hands up where the creature could see them. As the giant drew closer, Erik could see ice spikes growing out of his back and from his fingers.

Suddenly, leaving seemed much more attractive than it had a few minutes ago.

Still, Erik hesitated. The snow monster had come within ten yards of him. Huge and probably unfriendly it might be, but he did not want to bolt like a child.

Then, the creature reached out a vast, white glittering hand.

Erik turned to run, but he didn't make it five paces before something yanked him back and up by his collar, sweeping him off his feet and into the air.

The view spun around as the ground dropped away. Erik felt himself sway a little forward, then stop, but only for a moment. After the process repeated itself twice more, it finally dawned on him that the creature was carrying him down a steep slope.

Kicking and twisting did Erik about as much good as a floating pebble could to change the course of a small brook. After a few moments, he finally gave it up, his mind racing. The creature carried him through a frosted pine forest. Then the trees began to thin out. Up ahead, he caught a glimpse of a snowy slope going down.

Several more strides brought him and the snow giant out of the woods. Erik stared forward. After a short slope, he could now see a sharp dropoff, God knew how high. He glanced up, but the giant didn't appear to notice the cliff. Either that, or he didn't care.

"Put me down!" Erik shouted up at the creature. To his horror, the giant continued to stride onward.

"You stupid beast, look ahead! There's a cliff!" Erik thrashed helplessly in the creature's grip. "You idiot, we have to stop-,"

The giant stopped, and Erik relaxed. However, the giant then drew him backward.

"No!" Erik tried to grab and pull at the hand behind him. This had to be a nightmare. "No…I can't…you-,"

"Go away," the giant rumbled, and tossed Erik over the cliff as easily as a child might throw a rag doll.

For a brief instant, Erik could see a vast stretch of pine forest, and then in the vast distance, a dark mass he couldn't identify. It was a gorgeous vista, but he couldn't exactly care about it. The ground rushed towards Erik, wind roared past his ears, and a long-drawn cry of sheer terror filled the rushing air around him. Something in him realized, almost detachedly, that it came from himself. His entire body drew up as he braced an instant before slamming into the snow.

* * *

_Ahh…ow. What..._

Erik finally managed to suck in his first breath. He finally realized his body was still trembling. The breath had begun to come back into his body, at least. It took Erik's eyes a few seconds to focus. As he blinked, they cleared, and he made out the shadows of a dark forest.

_How…_In checking the state of his arms and legs, Erik discovered a strange difficulty in moving his lower body, but no pain. When he glanced down, he saw the reason; snow had buried him up to the waist.

Erik took several shuddering breaths. He began to realize what had just happened.

_How am I still alive?_

Erik glowered up at the cliff the snow giant had dropped him over. No huge white figure loomed over the edge. Sunlight turned the layered rock to dull orange which grew progressively redder as the cliff went up. In his cave, Erik had studied plenty of subjects, so he knew the phenomena of sunrise and sunset. However, they had little effect on his daily life—at least not that he noticed. To him, times consisted of opera and ballet rehearsals, then an empty house…but then he could rehearse with Christine. The thought of her made Erik close his eyes in pain. So many sweet memories, and now they had turned into tormenting ghosts. And yet, he would never have traded any of them.

_I'm a fool._

Looking down again brought Erik's mind to more immediate problems—like digging himself out of this, and now, before nightfall.

* * *

Twilight crept slowly and gradually upon Erik as he headed into the forest. Wrapping the purple cloak around himself and the brisk walk stirred his blood. However, Erik's feet had gone numb, and his legs still tingled painfully from the effects of the snow—and his trousers, now soaked with cold water. And he did _not _need any help to feel the cold.

But Erik had something far more fascinating than his own physical misery to focus on. Long years had passed since he spent any length of time outdoors. Hazy childhood memories mainly consisted of a dim, dirty cage, beatings, loneliness and humiliation. Now, Erik couldn't take his eyes away from the wonder of…of _everything._

No goal or destination drove him, but he wandered onward through the woods, utterly mesmerized by the slow change of his surroundings to clear, almost painful brilliance to rosy purple light which gradually grew darker and bluer. The diminishing light gave him an odd sense of approaching home. Given the perpetual dimness, lit only by candles, in his old home, it made some sense.

Eventually, a movement in the trees ahead caught Erik's attention. He proceeded with greater caution and less speed.

The cold, however, had become almost painfully intense. Erik could no longer feel his nose, feet, or hands, and all his willpower did nothing to stop an uncontrollable shivering. Cold pierced through Erik's clothes and wrapped its insidious tentacles around every cell in his body. His fascination with nightfall had helped take Erik's mind off his frozen body, but now he could think of nothing else. He felt exhausted, and frozen. All his world seemed to have degenerated into this starving, boundless, unbearable absolute chill. If the people up ahead had any extra coats or wraps or blankets, Erik thought, he had almost reached the point where he could actually beg for them.

As Erik drew closer, he could hear low voices, but now what they said. With a quick dart, Erik closed more distance and paused behind a tree to have a look at who he was following.

Two people walked on a head of a large, dark, lumbering, four-footed shape with large branching antlers. In the bad light, and at a slight distance, Erik might not have known them. But the short, pale, stocky shape trotting along right behind gave the other two travelers away.

It was Olaf, and the couple with him must be Anna and her "gentleman friend".

Erik sighed and slumped against the tree—which he regretted immediately. Now his thin hair was also wet, leaving him a little colder than before.

And he hadn't even thought that was possible.

_I wonder where they're going? Perhaps they're going back…wherever Elsa said…Arendelle. _The word sounded strange and musical in his own mind.

At the mention of Arendelle, Erik suddenly perked up. A ghost of a smile spread over his face. Less than twelve hours ago, he'd lain down in the snow, too crushed with despair to care about the cold. But now he felt so wretched from exposure that his thoughts tended exclusively towards warmth.

At that moment, Erik's stomach rumbled. He ducked fully behind the tree and held still, his heart hammering.'

Well, maybe not exclusively.

After a few seconds, he risked a glance, and saw the travelers had nearly disappeared. Clearly, none of them had even heard, and he was safe…but now he risked losing his one link to a place where he could get warm.

Erik shook his head and let out a derisive snort. Even when his life lay in tattered shreds at his feet, the body carried on, indifferent to circumstance, tragedy, or triumph. The belly always craved food at regular intervals, and the rest…_oh, the hell with it!_

It took even more effort, but Erik managed to exert his stiff numb legs to push through the snow. He followed the party through the woods, on feet which now felt like blocks of ice. In Arendelle, there would be food, and even if the travelers didn't arrive there tonight, they would be sure to stop somewhere which also had food, and warmth.

* * *

Elsa paced back and forth in her hall, the lone breathing being in the vast, still, beautiful, lifeless purity of the palace. Her agitated movements led her in a wandering, mazy sort of circle, with some curves out of the track of a sphere, but she always came back. Wherever her shoes clacked against the smooth ice, thicker webbed veins built up, spreading out from her feet. So much had built up that lines of ice wove in and out of each other, and some rays stabbed outward, making the floor of the hall look like the web of a spider who spun frost instead of silk.

Elsa glanced down, saw, and gasped. She'd been repeating her mantra for the two solid minutes, but clearly it had no effect.

"Conceal," she whispered, drawing in a deep breath. "Don't feel." She exhaled, and then drew in breath. "Conceal, don't feel. Don't let it show. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't-,"

She broke off, pressing hands to her tight forehead. _No use. It's no use. Nothing works anymore. I can't do it!_

Before, the deep breathing and chanting her phrase of control in rhythm with the breaths worked. That and fear of the staff, or her parents seeing. But now, when she needed control more desperately than she'd ever needed it before, all her efforts only seemed to work up her emotions.

The worst part—she didn't even have any idea if her efforts did any good. When Anna told her about Arendelle, Elsa had had _no idea. _Clearly, she'd made a mistake by letting go, but she obviously couldn't go back. And she didn't even really want to. Maybe that got in the way of her attempts at control.

She was a terrible person. She knew it, but there wasn't a blessed thing that Elsa could do about it.

_Arendelle might be buried right now, this minute, and I'd never know. Oh no—Anna. Anna and her...boyfriend. What if they're buried in snow right now?_

**STOP.**

Elsa shut her eyes and sank to her knees. The phrase, "weight of responsibility" had never had much meaning for her, but on the day of her coronation, she realized it had had more truth than she ever dreamed. Now, as then, she felt like an enormous boulder pressed down on her, heavy with the weight of dozens, even hundreds of lives, and she could barely carry it.

"_Help," _Elsa whispered, her voice cracking, then growing louder. "Mother…somebody help me…,"

As she bowed to the floor, her face in her hands, the words of Erik's lullaby came back to Elsa's troubled mind.

"_Little child, be not afraid,_

_Though thunder explodes and lightning flash_

_Illuminates your tear-stained face,_

_I am here tonight_."

Almost unconsciously, Elsa began to sing under her breath. She rose to her feet and stood swaying, twisting her hands together. Only fragments of the lyrics remained, so she repeated what little she could recall.

Other words sprang to mind. Softly, Elsa began to sing them, like a prayer.

"Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance." An instant wave of calm flooded Elsa's tense frame, worn with fear, emotion and pain. She felt utterly vulnerable and utterly safe at the same time. Thinking of Erik's words, remembering his voice, the brief song, made her feel like a crying child who hears a beloved voice and feels the soothing touch of a caring hand. Though Elsa could not see it, the ice had stopped forming at her feet.

Elsa whispered the next part, her voice catching on the words.

"_Too long I've wandered in winter,_

_Far from a fathering gaze._

_Angel, I cannot resist you,_

_And my soul obeys."_

The altered words came almost thoughtlessly, from some place deep within her, and yet they seemed so right. Tears flooded Elsa's eyes and she tried to gulp them back. In the silence, a sob resounded through the cold hall. Elsa sank to her knees, weeping quietly, but this time felt different.

Before, when she cried, Elsa had been totally crushed, and the tears a relief to keep her sane. Now she wept from a strange, sweet, aching pain welling up in her chest. She had an acute sense of her own isolation, but Erik's words and memory lingered as a bright, warm glow of comfort, safety, and love. Even when her parents lived, Elsa hadn't experienced this sense of watchful care from a person in so long.

"Oh," she whispered, her voice thick with tears, "Thank, you, Erik. Thank you."

The thought of Arendelle plunging deeper and deeper beneath snow, _her snow, _popped into Elsa's mind. Instantly, the ice began to spread outward over the floor.

Elsa started to sing fragmented verses of Erik's lullaby again.

* * *

The four travelers picked their way down through thick copses of snow-clad evergreens, and other trees, whose naked branches wove together to create a silver-gray tapestry—a strange tapestry of cold, lonely beauty.

Erik followed at a significant distance, still on guard for a backward glance which might betray him. He stuck close to the trees in case he needed to duck out of sight. But the party he tracked didn't seem to care if anyone might be following. The sun had sunk gradually in the sky for nearly all of the journey, and now deep twilight had fallen. Trees cast shadows far longer and wider than their actual selves, and under them the snow had turned dim. Even the clear spots, where Anna and Sven (Erik had determined that must be the blond youth's name), and Olaf and the reindeer all walked, the snow had become pale greyish blue.

The pools of shade grew longer and deeper, and the sky darkened to a midnight blue. Erik trudged on, unable not to move. Elsa's thin cloak offered little protection, and Erik's body ached with cold. He stumbled on doggedly, willing himself to keep moving.

"Look, Sven," Olaf's voice startled Erik. He saw he'd gotten a little close for comfort to the travelers. Olaf had insisted on lying on the reindeer's back, and now lay staring up. "The sky's awake."

Involuntarily, Erik followed the snowman's outstretched arm with his eyes. He stopped in the middle of the open track, and despite the risk, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

The night sky had now come alive with dancing ribbons of rainbow light. Erik gaped at the lights, and rubbed his eyes, but the dancing lights remained. They didn't look like clouds, and in any case, the sky had grown too dark. Sunset was reduced to a dull reddish glow, low on the horizon of the eastern sky.

At long last, Erik shook himself and continued following his quarry, albeit with caution. But every now and then, he couldn't help but glance up at the lights. It did indeed look as if the sky had come alive. And it was yet another sign that he had left the world he knew for a strange, unpredictable land straddling the borders of "normal" life and the stuff of legend.

Anna shivered, and Sven reached out to put his arms around her, but then pulled back. Instead, he guided her by the elbow to a place where steam rose from the ground.

Intrigued, Erik crept closer, and saw Anna holding her hands over a mossy spot on the ground. As he watched, a puff of steam rose up, and Anna flinched, but then sighed with relief.

Sven then led Anna onward, across increasingly moist, mossy ground. Erik could feel a distinct change in temperature. The air grew warmer and more humid, almost spring-like.

As soon as the others had moved far enough ahead, Erik stole over to the spot Anna had stopped and held out his hands.

For several seconds, nothing happened. Then steam puffed up, almost in his face, and Erik jumped. He glanced around, but then almost sighed aloud. Delicious warmth spread from his hands up his arms, and he could feel a tingling in his fingertips as he rubbed his stiff hands together.

Then Sven began speaking, and Erik couldn't resist drawing a little closer to hear. He noticed another steamy spot and headed towards it.

"…my friends…well, I say friends. They're more like family. Anyway…when I was a kid, it was just me and Sven, until they…you know, kind of took us in. I don't mean to scare you, but…they can be a little inappropriate." He sighed. "And…loud. Very loud. They're also stubborn, at times, and a little overbearing, and heavy, really, really heavy, which you, um, you'll get it, they mean well, I mean-,"

"Kristoff," Anna interrupted, gently, "they sound wonderful."

_Oh, so it's Kristoff. But then, who's Sven? The reindeer, I suppose…_

Erik felt tempted to leave—now that he knew Kristoff intended to introduce a girl to his parents, and he hadn't come along to witness that, but to find warmth and food.

"Okay." Kristoff's voice got Erik's attention, but then his next action riveted the man's gaze on him.

The blond young man walked into a clearing with large, squat bolders arranged in circles, and spread his arms out proudly. "Meet my family!"

Anna and Olaf stood stock-still. Erik couldn't exactly blame them. He himself couldn't help staring in fascinated horror. The lad had seemed so nice, so stable. Behind Kristoff, Sven practically frisked into the clearing, sniffing at random rocks like an excited puppy.

Olaf leaned over to Anna, very slowly and deliberately. From where he crouched, two or three yards behind, Erik clearly heard Olaf's whisper. "He's cra-aa-azy!"

"For once, the snowman has some sense," Erik murmured. Kristoff was still strolling blithely around the clearing, carrying on one-sided conversations with various rocks like long-lost friends. He didn't seem bothered by the fact that they weren't speaking back.

"I'll distract him while you run!" Olaf immediately dropped the stage-whisper for a loud, cheerful, overly bright tone as he strolled into the clearing.

"_Hi,_ Sven's family! It's nice to meet you!" He immediately turned and hissed in Anna's direction, "Because I love you Anna, I insist you run." Then he turned and continued in the fake-smiley tone, "I understand you're love experts!" Olaf glanced back, saw Anna still standing there,and hissed, "Why aren't you running?"

"Uh…," Anna finally moved. She pointed over her shoulder—almost directly at Erik. "Okay…I'm gonna go now…,"

"No, Anna, wait!" Kristoff started towards Anna, but then all four froze.

The hair rose on the back of Erik's neck, and he shifted, suddenly unsettled.

Beneath his feet, the ground had started trembling. At first, he thought an earthquake was coming. The rocks started to tremble, then all at once, several began to roll.

Erik clutched the tree in front of him, then he realized the earth hadn't shaken that violently. The rocks were rolling, large and small, towards the center of the clearing, and Kristoff, who stood in the middle, expectant, even smiling, holding out his arms as if welcoming the rocks.

Anna and Olaf were not so calm. Olaf went chasing after the rock he'd just addressed most of his remarks to, while Anna shrieked and jumped out of the way of several large boulders.

Then, Erik's world, already stretched thin by his newly expanded imagination, tilted upside down.

The rocks _extended arms and legs, _and _uncurled._

Erik gripped the trunk. Bark pressed hard into his palms. Around him, he saw the bare branches in all their detail, the dark sky lit with dancing colored ribbons of light, and then the glade full of short, gray, squat creatures, with horns, and eyes, and arms and legs, and little green clothes.

"KRISTOFF'S HOME!" One of them called out.

The creatures cheered as one. Some started jostling towards the front to try and get a better look, while other simply jumped up and down.

"Trolls," Anna breathed. "They're trolls!"

Erik's head, already light, suddenly felt as if someone had scooped out his brains and replaced them with air. Invisible hands seemed to press in on his temples in a relentless pounding. The forest spun in a slow circle around him.

* * *

Damp, blackened dead leaves strewed over a stretch of moist, brown, cold earth.

Erik blinked, slowly. He felt sluggish, and for several seconds, his thoughts jumbled around, a disoriented heap inside his head.

As Erik lay still, blinking, he began to realize that he had fallen to the ground, and second, that he had fainted, for the first time in his life.

In the distance, Erik could hear singing voices.

He struggled to rise, only to clutch the tree for balance. Erik took slow, deep breaths and waited for the world to stop spinning before rising again.

The blood rushed downward into his legs and feet as he finally managed to rise. Just now, Erik realized he had eaten nothing since early afternoon of the day of the opera fiasco, and he'd been too keyed up to have any supper. That was at least twenty-four hours ago—possibly more, depending on how long Erik had spent in the tunnels. Taking into account everything that had happened to him since, small wonder he'd fainted.

Slowly, carefully, leaning most of his weight on the tree trunk, Erik turned forward towards the glade.

The trolls were still there. Now they'd started singing, doing flips, somersaults, climbing on top of each other, all circling around something in the middle of the glade.

Erik blinked once, then twice, rapidly. He rubbed his eyes. He had to be mad. The mental strain of everything that he'd experienced must have cracked his brain. Elsa's magic powers, the strange lights, a talking snowman, he'd swallowed, but this had to prove he'd lost it.

His skin felt so cold, pinching himself barely hurt. And it did nothing to wake him up. The hallucination _still _wouldn't show itself for what it must be.

Then he heard the dancers' song fade into a single-noted croon, dynamic of piano. And in the relative quiet, a single voice piped up, loud and officious.

"Do you, Anna, take Kristoff, to be your trollfully wedded-,"

_Wait, what?_

"Wait, what?" A familiar voice interrupted.

Peering around the tree, Erik thought he could see Anna's red hair and Kristoff's blond head beneath crowns of leaves and branches.

_I must be dreaming._

"You're getting married."

The sharp gasp made Erik look up. Anna had slumped over, into Kristoff's arms. His voice called out, sharp with fear, "She needs help! Somebody get Grandpabby!"

_Who in the name of…_

A rock rolled through the ranks, toward Kristoff and Anna. Then it uncurled, revealing a stooped older-looking troll.

"There is strange magic here," he said in a deep, rasping voice.

"Granpabby!" Kristoff pushed Anna a little forward at Granpabby's command. The couple's backs blocked Erik's view of the old troll, but he could still hear him in the deafening silence.

"Child, there is ice in your heart, put there by your sister."

_Elsa. _A chill went through Erik's blood. He remembered Elsa's anguished blast of winter, Anna's gasp, as if something had struck her. Elsa _had _struck her sister, with her powers—unintentionally, but the damage was done.

"If not removed, to solid ice will you freeze." Granpabby's voice shook a little, and the mutual gasp of incredulous fear from Anna and Kristoff told Erik all he needed to know of their reactions.

"Can you remove it?" Kristoff's anguish actually hurt to listen to. _So they are lovers. I thought so. _Erik felt an instant bond of sympathy with the two. They were what he and Christine should have been, if only-

"I'm sorry, Kristoff." The old troll sounded terribly sad, and resigned. "If it was her head, that would be easy. But…only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart."

A few days ago, Erik would have scoffed at the idea of such a fairy-tale device having real scientific value-even as his poet's heart would have melted. But, now, he couldn't brush it aside so lightly. For the first, and not, the last time, Erik fully realized all the implications of this strange world. He had stumbled into a place where anything and everything could, and would, happen. If girls could be cursed with powers over ice and snow, snowmen could move and talk, and trolls could spring from rocks…what might not be true?

A touch of real fear ran through Erik's body. _Where am I? How has nobody ever heard of all this? How did I get here? Am I even awake? This has to be a dream…but it isn't. I'm awake. I'm really awake. What is this place?_

Erik forced himself to focus on Kristoff and Anna. He had to remain calm. Panicking had never done him any good, and certainly wouldn't now.

"Anna," Kristoff sounded clear and urgent. "We've got to get you back to Hans."

_Hans? Who's Hans?_

Erik frowned. He had to have heard wrong. Anna and Kristoff interacted like old friends, and Kristoff clearly cared for her. They were lovers…weren't they?

Kristoff had already started guiding Anna towards Sven, who trotted over. He helped her mount, then swung onto the reindeer's back, calling, "C'mon, Olaf!"

"I'm comin'!" Olaf hurried over, and was snatched up. With a kick to the sides, Sven galloped off, but Erik could still hear Olaf exclaim as they rode off into the distance, "Let's go kiss Hans! Who is this Hans?"

_Kiss Hans? _Erik wrinkled his nose. He already smelled a rat. Something just didn't seem right. Kristoff talked as though Hans and Anna were…but that couldn't be. And yet…

Then Erik recalled that Kristoff had once started to put his arms around Anna, then pulled back. It struck him then as odd, but now it made sense.

_So…he cares for her, but she doesn't know it…how I don't know…and she's with someone else…and now Kristoff has to carry her back to some other man to kiss to save her life._

Erik's hands clenched on the tree. Feelings he only half understood swelled inside him. But it caused him rage to see this young man suffer, and a feeling of kinship. Kristoff did what he had to do in order to truly love the girl he cared for and save her life. He was a good man, clearly, perhaps better than this Hans.

_You don't know that. Calm down._

Just behind him, Erik heard a twig snap. He stiffened, and started to turn around.

Too late. Hands grabbed his arms, and hauled him out from behind the tree before he could struggle or protest. Then the old troll raised his eyes to look at him. All eyes turned Erik's way, and he froze, as effectively as if Elsa had struck him with her power.

"Ah!" Granpabby's eyes lit up. "Another visitor! Come forward, young man."

Before Erik had time either to comply or to protest, the other trolls surged toward him. A stone tidal wave swept him off his feet and he rode forward on a sea of trolls, across the little clearing. The hands dumped him into a large, deep hole in the ground which came up to his chest. Then the former Phantom of the Opera found himself face-to-face with Granpabby.

"What are you doing here?" Granpabby drew closer, looking straight into Erik's eyes.

Neither the troll's face nor his voice indicated outrage or hostility; nonetheless Erik shifted uncomfortably under his stare. Deep black eyes gazed into his. Years lay behind those eyes, decades upon decades of years of memory, experience, and knowledge, knowledge of all the good and bad of long life in the world, and the wisdom gained thereby. Granpabby's eyes seemed perfectly capable of peeling away Erik's mask, piercing through his face and eyes, into the twisted depths of his mind, uncovering his deepest faults, secrets, and all his greatest triumphs and failures, without any outside help or knowledge at all.

"What is your name, young man?" Granpabby asked.

"Erik," replied Erik. He felt very vulnerable and shaky, here in the midst of all these strangers.

"You are nervous," Granpabby leaned even closer. He _smelled _ancient—not bad, but a musk of old earth, powerful herbs, damp moss, and woods seemed to hang about his stocky frame like a priest's mantle. "And troubled. You have the air of a man who has come a long way carrying terrible sorrow. You have made mistakes and done great things."

Then all at once he smiled. "Do not be afraid, Erik. My people and I mean you no harm."

"Then let me be on my way," Erik said. Somehow, he sensed the truth of Granpabby's statement, but he still felt hungry, out of place, and thoroughly shaken up. He had not felt so many eyes on himself since he took his place on the opera stage that fateful night. Before that, Erik had never even been with more than two people at a time, except as a naked, filthy, beaten child in front of a jeering crowd. The air closed in on his temples. Suddenly, Erik felt absolutely naked, alone and weak, a trembling straw person on the edge of a cliff, who might be blown over the edge any second.

"In a little while," Granpabby's deep, craggy voice saved Erik. Trembling slightly, he focused intently on the old troll's sad, gentle, intelligent face. On the opera stage, intense concentration on the scene he played—and Christine—had been the only thing preventing him from freezing up and making an utter fool of himself.

"First, tell us why you were watching Anna and her companions from the shadows."

The question made Erik flinch, but he began to answer. Then, he stopped short. Why _had _he followed them?

Erik's mind raced. What excuse did he have that wouldn't make the trolls suspicious of him? He wanted out. Hunger actually made his stomach ache so that he almost doubled over, and he felt exposed and frightened, and he wanted out, away from all the staring, judging eyes at any price. Erik's stomach twisted in a knot, so hard it made him feel sick. Sweat began filming on his palms.

"Tell me the truth." Granpabby persisted. "I will believe you if you do."

Somehow, Erik sensed the old troll told the truth. He had a feeling Granpabby would indeed know if he told the truth…and he had an equally strong, but nastier, feeling that Granpabby would see through him if he tried to bluff his way out.

"I…I was following them because I…," he hesitated. "I don't know why I did it. I have nowhere else to go. They took my home-,"

"Anna and Kristoff?"

"No. The…people back where I come from." Erik made himself go on. "They took my home. More than likely they've destroyed everything, all my music, my pictures-," something caught the words in his throat, and Erik swallowed hard, choking back a sudden, shocking wave of fury and grief. He'd hardly thought about his home after losing Christine, but now he realized his desertion had cost him more than a wife. His home, everything he'd known for the last twenty years, all his work, his organ, his clothes, even his pathetic little music box.

To his astonishment, Erik looked up to meet Granpabby's eyes and saw something he never expected; compassion. Without knowing him, without even speaking, this nonhuman creature told Erik with his eyes that he had experienced loss, and understood how it felt.

_How could he? _That question occurred to Erik only later, and even then he had but to think of those dark, full eyes and his doubt would fade away.

"I am an outcast," he said more clearly. "I am nothing. I have no home, nowhere to go…I don't even know where…or what…," he swallowed back another sudden wave of tears. The trolls stayed respectfully silent, and it gave Erik the courage to continue. "I followed those people in hopes of fire and food. That's all I can think of now. That's what matters most, now that...," he finally shut himself up. _I'll be damned if I tell these trolls all about Christine._

The trolls murmured, startled, but Granpabby's eyes steadied Erik.

"He is telling the truth," Granpabby said at last, turning towards his people. Then he faced Erik again. "Tell me, do you wish to go to Arendelle? It is a good land, if you have skill and a will to use it…though it has grown troubled. What sort of disorder is there, I cannot tell for certain. Still, if you look for fire and food of a kind you can eat, I would go there."

"How am I to get there?" Erik didn't know how to tell the troll he could never stay in any place too long now, so he said nothing about it. He could think of the future after.

"My people can carry you out of the forest, and you will be within sight of Arendelle." Granpabby gestured around him, and Erik finally got up the courage for a quick look around.

Before Erik could give the matter much thought, his stomach gave him a sharp and painful reminder of its emptiness.

That decided him. "I will go to Arendelle," Erik stated.

Granpabby did not exactly smile but his eyes showed contentment, even approval. "Good luck, Erik," he said softly. "Take care of yourself."

Troll hands caught Erik up before he could frame a suitable reply. He rode out of the glade on a pool of troll hands, then a vine wrapped around his waist.

Erik had a sudden sinking feeling he might have made a mistake, then an invisible pair of hands pulled at the vine, swinging him up and forward.

* * *

**I thought you guys could do with a little bit of comedy. Even if it's a little bit…and who better than the trolls to provide it? (Well, Olaf, but still.) After the upcoming chapter, the story will go on with its own plot, after the movie. Apologies if this chapter seems a little tedious, I honestly tried to make even the descriptive parts interesting. I have to spend some time on the events of the movie. And I listened to some pretty awesome music while writing this, let me tell you. I can't list it all here, but let me tell you, Lindsey Stirling is AWESOME to write to. (Fellow writers, consider that a tip.) And she did the coolest medley of stuff from PHANTOM OF THE OPERA! So yeah, I had help.**

**Hopefully, you found Elsa's little scene as a comfort, from the awful place I left her in. She'll have more in the next chapter, which is basically a gigantic chunk of altered movie—not too altered, don't worry. But Erik will witness all this go down. So enjoy, and tell me what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey! I know it's not SOON, but it's a decent interval of time. School has started, and I've joined the choir at our school…and that takes up an extra chunk of my day two days a week. But it is Le Awesome, so that's why I did it. Plus honestly, when Friday rolls around, the first things I want to do are chill and do non-productive fun things—not that this isn't fun…but still. And I also have, like, actual schoolwork…**

**Extremeenigma02's nudging has inspired me to keep going even when my lazy-ass side wanted to just lie around and watch Lord of the Rings (although I did do that too). Sickness really does not do favors for creativity, but I kept going for y'allzzz! He also suggested some ideas, which is giving me inspirations for the plot later on…(rubs hands together, grinning evilly). When they come up, I'll mention them specifically, just for you, brother-man**

**Oh…I realized I made an obvious and stupid consistency error. Earlier I said it would take two days to get from the North Mountain to Arendelle. And THE MORNING AFTER the troll scene, Hans and a bunch of soldiers arrived at Elsa's palace. So ****I made a mistake by saying that Erik and Anna and Kristoff would have gotten back—at least without including them stopping at Wandering Oaken's Trading Post****, I guess. Because otherwise the timing of the movie doesn't make as much sense unless Kristoff and Anna did that. So I edited the previous chapter slightly, so you should reread like the last fourth before going on with this one. Sorry about that.**

**When I skip over events of the movie, assume they happened as shown in Frozen, unless otherwise indicated. **

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest (who turned out to be extremeenigma02):** Yes, there will be some music. I'm not sure just how much yet. But thanks for not being afraid to ask. If you have questions, people, go ahead and ask them. I just will have to decline to give a straight answer if said answers would give away valuable plot points—well, I'll at least warn you that the answer would spoil it. Then if you reeeeally want to know, I'll tell you. But then I don't want to hear no complaining!

* * *

The sound of a decidedly Dutch voice tugged Erik out of a sound slumber. He slowly opened one eye, then quickly closed it again, and rolled further into the hay.

"Hello? How are you?"

Erik lay perfectly still, afraid to move. Then he groaned slightly. What did it matter?

"Are you all right?" A hand pressed into his chest, and an enormous weight left his legs pinned painfully.

Erik froze. Every instinct screamed at him to swing an arm up and attack the person on top of him, but he realized he had nothing. The lasso, his sword…he had left it all behind.

So Erik forced himself to hold still, and then slowly open his eyes.

A large, round, blue-eyed face sat mere inches away from his own. Blond curls framed the man's cheerful features and stuck out from under his blue hat.

"Ah!" The man smiled, a little too brightly. "And vat are _you_ doing in my barn?"

Erik opened his mouth, then closed it again. He simply glowered up at the man.

Unfortunately, this did not appear to work.

"Sleeping," Erik said at last. He couldn't very well say it was none of the man's business—the answer to that would come too easily.

The man smiled at him again. Erik found his apparent lack of concern rather disturbing. He supposed this was the owner of the trading post. He never went inside…mainly just snuck to the back and borrowed some food…all right, stole it. But he was desperate. The trolls had left him right here, and Erik discovered that Kristoff, Anna, and Sven, had decided to stop here for the night as well. He slipped into the barn before them and buried himself in the pile of hay, more to the back of the barn. It was dark, and the hay felt scratchy, but it kept him warm. He had nestled into it gladly, wincing and rubbing his nose against the straws that teased his nose, but grateful for the wonderful warmth which soaked into his marrow, gradually replacing the chill, and soothing him so that he barely remembered lying there, listening to Kristoff and Anna's low voices.

"Ah, I see."

_I see? Is that…good, or bad? Ugh, why doesn't he stop smiling?_

Erik attempted to rise, but found an arm like a barrel had his chest pinned. The man also sat on his legs, so he couldn't move.

"If you don't mind," Erik growled, struggling to get up again, "I'd like to be on my way."

"You would?" The man looked…surprised, honestly. Then the broad grin broke out over his face once more. "Of course! Vell, that's good! Othervise…," the man lifted his arm, and cracked his knuckles. He gave Erik a look of gentle concern and regret. "There might be trouble."

The weight left Erik's legs as the owner stood up. Erik almost groaned in relief, as the blood began to flow back into the lower half of his body. He tried to stand, but then fell over.

"Oh," the man said, "Oh dear. You can't valk?"

"Of course I can walk," Erik snarled. He somehow managed to force himself onto feet he could barely feel, and took a cautious step. This time, he swayed but did not fall.

"Are you all right?" Good God, the owner hovered over him almost like a mother hen. Erik struggled towards the door, wincing with every step as pins and needles came to life in his feet. But at least he had feeling in them now. A warm night in the barn had evidently done its work.

"Ahh!" Erik wrapped his arms around himself and stopped dead as soon as the door swung open. He'd almost forgotten the bitter cold, but now it reminded him of its presence with piercing brutality.

Then Erik recalled the cloak, and hastily wrapped it around himself, sighing at the slight measure of warmth it provided. The man had only three wraps, and Erik had overheard someone complaining to the man, and a conversation about new shipments, supply and demand, at which point he'd stopped listening.

A heavy hand clapped onto his shoulder, making Erik jump. He cursed himself for it, and turned to the owner with (he hoped) a disdainful expression. "Yes?"

"Is…that one of my cloaks?"

"No, no." Erik had to steel himself to walk out the door, but he hurried out, before the man had time to do more than ask that question. Behind him, the barn door clanged shut.

The cold wrapped Erik around, and he buttoned up his coat with fumbling fingers. As soon as he could, he jammed his hands into deep pockets. Such a small relief had an enormous effect, especially with the memory of last night's frigid trek on his mind.

_Thank God he didn't question my coat in time to stop me. _Erik lifted up his feet, and realized more snow had fallen. It now came to almost halfway up his thighs. Every step cost him more effort, and sent a bigger plume of steam from his lips.

_Now what?_

Erik stopped dead, and then despair overwhelmed him once again. _Now what? _His home was destroyed, his one friend left behind, his whole life in shreds. Where could he go? What was he to do now?

For five years, he lived alone in the opera house, reveling in all the privacy he possessed. In the circus, all he aspired to was his next crust of bread, his next drink of water, which happened too rarely, and avoiding the inevitable humiliation of the laughing crowds as long as possible. But then Erik escaped it all. Suddenly, he discovered a whole new world of beauty, fascination. Melodies he heard danced through his sleep. And one night, he dreamed a whole new song, one he'd never heard before. And he sang it to himself, softly in the dark.

Antoinette Giry heard him one day, and decided to teach him about music. She showed him notes and staffs and rhythms, and Erik learned how to set the new songs that flowed from his mind to paper, to capture beauty where he could return to it and play it, again and again. He lived for his music, drowned himself in composition. For awhile, that was all he needed.

Then Christine came along, and everything changed—again. When Erik first learned how to compose, how to play instruments, he did it simply for the pleasure of creating, for something to do when he was bored. But now all of a sudden, he saw an orphan girl with sad, longing eyes, and felt an urge to reach out. He dared not emerge from the shadows, but Erik knew he still had something he could give to her. And a whole new world opened up, not just to Christine, but to him. For the first time in his life, he had someone to live for, someone to nurture and look after and care about. And then he grew up—as did Christine. For the first time ever, Erik knew the emotion sung about in the operas—love.

_Never again. _Erik closed his eyes, his hands involuntarily clenching into fists. His throat burned and ached, and he tilted his head up to glare at the uncaring sky. When he first fell in love, he knew about its beauty. But now, he knew the other side of the coin. He had the truth. Love had demanded everything, promised the world, and what had he now? Nothing but a broken heart and a ream of bittersweet memories. He had _nothing._

"Hello! Excuse me, ja!"

Erik froze, then turned around. Beneath the mask, his lips twisted into a feral growl. He had lost everything, and on top of that he still had to deal with this man?!

"Sir!" The owner of Wandering Oaken's Trading Post hurried towards him with astonishing speed for his bulk. "Excuse me! Sir! That coat belongs to me!"

"Damn."

The expletive passed through Erik's lips with no more volume than a whisper, but with no less feeling behind it. All at once, Christine and his loss were shoved to the back of Erik's mind, as he turned around and stretched his still-able legs in a sprint.

Deception was clearly useless. Now his best hope lay in speed—if he only possessed strength enough.

* * *

"_Elsa! Catch me!"_

"_No! Anna, slow do-,"_

_Elsa's foot skidded on a patch of ice, just as the surge of power left her hands. She slid forward, gravity pulling her body down to meet the ground, back first, with a thud._

_The shrill cry froze Elsa's blood, which outside cold could not touch. She sat up, her heart in her mouth. Anna's small form lay on the icy floor. Elsa hadn't caught her._

"_Anna!" Elsa scrambled to her feet and hurried towards Anna. Panic spiked in her chest._

_Anna wasn't moving. She didn't even respond._

_Elsa fell on her knees beside her fallen sister. Her stomach plummeted. Anna lay still, her eyes closed. And through her hair, Elsa saw a white streak—something totally out of place among Anna's reddish brown hair._

"_Anna!" Elsa gingerly lifted her sister's head into her lap. She touched her face. Anna didn't respond._

_Panic crashed into Elsa's thoughts, and they charged around her head in stampeding fragments. _Anna...no...hurt, maybe…my fault…my fault…no…no…NO!

"_No!" Elsa sobbed. She hardly noticed the swirl of white snow around her body._

"_Elsa!" Elsa glanced up, seeing her parents. They ran towards her, but Elsa could only see them through a haze of swirling white snow. They knelt beside her and Anna, their faces blank with astonishment and horror, but from her father's eyes…Elsa could never forget the anger she saw burning in his eyes._

"_What have you done?" Her father practically jerked Anna away from her._

"_I…it was an accident." The snow around them intensified. "I didn't mean it!"_

"_This is your doing!"_

"_No! Please, I'm sorry!" Elsa's voice broke. She could barely see her parents through the small blizzard raging around her._

"_Stop!" Her father grabbed her arm. A wave of icy energy blasted out from Elsa's body and into her father's. His brown hair turned white, and his skin grew pale. Within seconds, bluish ice began to spread over his body. Father's angry words froze on his parted lips, his eyes still wide. Her father had frozen into an ice statue, and she had frozen him. It was her powers. Her fault._

"_No!" Elsa started to wail. "Daddy, no!"_

"Ugh!"

Elsa gasped as her whole body jolted and collapsed onto a solid floor. Her heart was racing harder and faster than Elsa had even believed possible. She lay still, panting and shaking from all the adrenaline, and slowly gaining her bearings.

The snow drifts lay about the smooth, icy floor. That much of her dream had evidently come true in her sleep. But Anna was not lying there, horribly pale and still. Her parents had gone-gone, Elsa realized, in more ways than one.

Elsa sat up and rubbed her hands over her face. This wasn't the first time she'd had nightmares about losing control, but the last few nights, she had slept freely. And Elsa had never actually felt the real danger those dreams portended with such vivid clarity.

_I am a fool. But I can't go back._ Elsa closed her eyes. _I have to try and control it, and hope for the best._

She rose to her feet. The morning sun cast a rosy glow over the dim hall, from the east. Elsa glanced around at the sparkling walls, the morning sunlight, and squared her shoulders. Falling asleep with Erik's song on her lips, even with nightmares to follow, had raised her spirits.

_I am a daughter of kings and queens. I WAS a queen in Arendelle. I am stronger than this. I WILL be stronger than this._

* * *

Erik slowed to a halt, stopped, and listened. The owner's clumping, running footsteps had stopped. He began a cautious walk, then stopped without warning. No crunching echoed to him across the snow.

Then Erik heard a distant howl. He froze, then heard another one, closer.

_Damn it_. Erik pushed on, this time at a slow jog. His leg muscles already burned from the effort of running through thigh-high snow. But he had no choice. Once again, he was a fox, the drive and passion of his previous life now reduced to the instinctive fight of a beast pursued.

He started to run.

* * *

The pounding of Sven's hooves rumbled like distant thunder. It had become such a constant rhythm that it failed to really catch Anna's attention. It actually lulled her into further drowsiness.

She opened her eyes and saw Kristoff's face above her, his eyes fixed ahead, his face taut and blank with anxiety. That look had slowly taken over his face all morning, until now it had set into his face.

It hurt to see him that way. Anna wanted to tell him it was all right, that she was very cold, and it scared her a little, but they would get to Arendelle soon, and then she would be with Hans, and he would fix this. Everything was going to be fine.

"What?" Kristoff leaned down for a second, and Anna realized she'd voiced her thoughts aloud, if only in a whisper.

"I said I'm fine. Everything's going to be okay, Kristoff."

Kristoff glanced down at Anna for a longer moment than he usually allowed himself. His heart ached with an odd mixture of hope and very real pain.

"We're going to be fine," he repeated. "We're almost there. I just saw Arendelle down that hill."

Anna's face, bluish with cold, lit up with a faint smile.

"You see?" she whispered. "Everything's going to be fine."

Kristoff stared ahead. Anna's words made his heart ache even more. Suddenly he wished he and Anna had never found the way up, because then he wouldn't be fighting with his fear for Anna's safety and this inexplicable desire, the awful wish that he didn't have to take her back to Hans.

_Fine. Everything is going to be fine._

_Yeah right._

* * *

Elsa wandered through the halls of her vast palace. She had watched two suns rise from her balcony, and she still hadn't gotten the least bit tired of seeing it. But now the sun had fully come up, leaving her with nothing to do but _think._

Ten years confined to her room had already taught her that that wasn't necessarily a good thing, and now the lesson was reinforced.

All Elsa had to occupy her time were the things she knew, and the things she didn't know—namely, if her efforts to control her powers had done any real good. Of course, she could always retrace her steps and try and check back on Arendelle, but this plan had two problems. One, she might be seen, and two, her very proximity might make the winter conditions worse. If she stayed as far away as possible, and did her very best to control her powers in the only way she knew, she _might _be able to stop this.

Then she heard a distant roar outside, and tensed.

_What now?_

* * *

Erik reeled to a stop and collapsed on his knees, gasping and panting. He'd never run so far so fast before, but he'd had to. And at least he'd outdistanced the wolves.

Sinking back into a sitting position, Erik took deep breaths. The haze slowly cleared from his eyes, and his sweat began to dry almost immediately. After his activity, the cold actually felt like a relief. Breathing deeply, he raised his eyes to look for the first time down below him.

Below him, he saw a last steep slope leading down to a spreading city, in the middle of which Erik made out the towers of a high castle. Off to the right, a frozen expanse of what had once been a bay spread off into a deep river surrounded by rocky crags. Erik simply gazed down at the scenery, a little overwhelmed by it all. These past two days had shown him more of the world than years in his cave studying music and art and everything else could have, and he felt smaller than before.

As he gazed at the city, a small moving shape caught Erik's eye. It stopped before the city gates, and then a smaller figure detached itself. It appeared, from his birds-eye view, like a person carrying a large burden.

Then they set it down, and Erik saw it was indeed another human being standing on its feet—although they seemed to lean mostly on the other person. Together, they stood before the doors as if waiting.

The gates swung open, and one of the pair vanished through it, while the second remained outside. They stood there for several moments, then turned and began slowly walking back to the other squat shape.

Erik frowned darkly. He realized he might have just seen a parting between Anna and Kristoff. It was no concern of his, of course, but it still struck a nerve. He'd witnessed far too many goodbyes today.

Utilizing a sudden burst of energy, Erik stood up. He stumbled down the slope on weary legs towards two people that someone had left behind.

* * *

Kristoff trudged up the slope, staring at his feet. _One, two._

Anna was gone. She would get "true love's kiss" from Hans, a guy she'd met just days ago, and had seen for one.

_It's not like you had a chance. Idiot._

Sven's snort should have warned him, but Kristoff saw no one until a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Where are you going?"

Kristoff looked up and stared. A tall man stood before him and Sven, blocking the way. Despite the plain, baggy brown coat, his height and graceful, yet regal build was unmistakable. Most unusual of all, a purple mask covered his entire face so that Kristoff could make out nothing but the gleam of his keen, dark eyes.

"Hi." Kristoff looked the man over. "What do you want?"

The stranger's dark eyes focused intently on his face. Kristoff felt himself shift uncomfortably under the other man's searching gaze. He stepped closer.

"You were with that young woman, were you not?"

Kristoff stared, then he looked down at his feet.

"Yes, I was."

He started to trudge onward, but the stranger held out a hand. "Wait."

"Look, I don't know who you are," Kristoff wasn't grumpy by nature—though Anna might beg to differ on that one—but he'd had a pretty exhausting time over the last couple days, and right now, he just didn't want to deal with anyone or anything. "But I'd like to be on my way, if you don't mind."

The stranger looked startled, then he hesitated. His eyes fell to the ground, and his hands wound around each other, as if he felt uncertain.

"Never mind." He stepped aside. "Then go your way."

Kristoff stared at the man for a moment, then he shrugged and walked on past. Sven paused a moment to sniff at the man's jacket, then trotted on after him. At least the reindeer seemed to like the man, so he must not be too bad.

_Wonder what that guy wanted…_

* * *

_My fault._

Elsa buried her face in her hands, only to bang her nose against metal. She dropped her iron-gloved wrists into her lap and stared at the ice crystals forming on the surface. She was in Arendelle…the very place she tried to escape from, and the place she had to leave. They might have locked Elsa in the deepest dungeon, but that wouldn't stop her power from overwhelming the city, as long as she was actually within it. She needed to be hundreds of miles away. If only Hans could make those men see that…

_I have to get away. I have to get out of here…but how?_

_"Wandering child, so lost, so helpless,_

_Yearning for my guidance…,"_

Elsa's lips tilted upward in a faint smile, but then she closed her eyes. The lullaby was beautiful, and soothing, but that wouldn't help. She needed to escape. Hans might be influential, and determined to help her, but she could only do so much.

"_Little child, be not afraid_

_The rain pounds harsh against the glass_

_Like an unwanted stranger_

_There is no danger_

_I am here ton_ight."

No, he's not. Elsa closed her eyes. Where was Erik, she wondered? Had he journeyed further into the mountains? Or had he gone down towards Arendelle? Either way, she hoped he was in better shape than her.

_I need to get out._

Elsa glanced down at her iron gloves, then started. Ice had covered nearly all of the metal surface.

Experimentally, Elsa tugged against the chains. They rattled but showed no signs of cracking.

Suddenly, Elsa heard voices. She froze.

Unseen by her, ice crystals began forming on the ceiling, spreading towards the cell door.

The voices became more distinct now. Elsa heard something like, "Careful! Be quiet! We don't want to let that witch know we're here."

Elsa's stomach knotted with panic. They were coming after her. People who wanted her dead were coming for her, and she was chained and confined, so she couldn't escape.

Elsa had only recently started to let her powers go deliberately. But now, circumstances indicated use of power might be for the best. She focused on the door, and began to coat it with a solid layer of ice. At least this way, she could buy some time.

On the other side, the assassin tugged at the door handle, frowned, then pulled harder.

"It's not working," he muttered.

"You're pulling it the wrong way," Hans, Prince of the Southern Isles, remarked.

"No, I'm not." The man pushed and pulled at the cell door, but it wouldn't move. Suddenly, he gasped and swore, pulling away. "The metal's cold!"

"You think the witch froze the door?" Another asked.

"Well, if we can't open it, we'll have to break the door down." Hans pushed the man out of the way, and tried the door himself. However, the longer he tried, the less the door budged.

Finally he pulled back, shaking his chilled hand. He turned to two of the men, who carried large battle-axes.

"Break the door down."

Inside her cell, Elsa tugged and pulled on her gauntlets. Cracks had begun to appear in the ice, but still the metal wouldn't break.

Then she closed her eyes and imagined the sweat on her hands. She pictured it rising and soaking into the metal, freezing immediately once it left her body, and expanding, trying the iron.

Cracks slid like webbed veins throughout the gauntlets. Elsa closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and focused all her powers on freezing the gloves into solid ice, ice which she could control and break.

* * *

The door shivered. Cracks appeared in it.

"Harder!" Hans' voice rose into a shout. By this point, he reflected grimly, it didn't matter if Elsa heard him. Only she and Anna would know the truth, and both would be dead within minutes. Anna was dead already. He'd planned it that way.

The door finally gave under the last axe blow. A few more chops cleared the stiff, frozen fragments out of the way. Hans charged in before everyone, and then stopped.

Cold wind blew in from the hole in the wall, clearly created by the enormous icicles which still pointed outward. Elsa's metal gloves lay broken in a heap on the floor. The Queen had gone.

* * *

_**Please excuse the fragmented feel of this chapter, but it was hard for me just to focus on the movie when I wanted to write on later happenings…(ahem ahem). I didn't want to spend too much time on it because we all kind of know what happens. The next chapter will be the last happening during the movie. I know I said that about this but...frankly, I'm sick and tired, and I wanted to give you guys something. Expect the next chapter soon.**_

_**I have a tiny mountain of tissues on the floor next to my computer…and a splitting headache from staring at the screen forever and a day. I hope you guys liked the update, short as it might be. :) Just let me know if the writing seemed as bad to you as it does to me right now, and if there are any mistakes, just inform me of them, and blame them on my state of health, which is currently in the toilet. Please pray for it to go away soon, because in college, missing class is not something one can afford to do very much.**_

_**Au revoir. (crawls off, back to bed where she belongs).**_


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

_**A/N: Wa-hey, folks! I'm back, and feeling much better. And thank you very much, to all the concerned and caring people who asked how I was and hoped I'd get better soon! (Which I did. I don't get sick very often, thank god…)**_

_**Guest reviews: **_

_PenWieldingRose: I'm glad you liked the part with Oaken! I didn't go so much for humor in that one, but I did mean it to be a bit of a lighter moment—which this story needs! I'm pretty excited for what's coming, and I'm really, really glad you're enjoying it so far!_

* * *

Erik made it about two-thirds of the way down the slope before he noticed the storm.

His only warnings had been the wind picking up, but he hadn't given it much thought, since he was mainly thinking of what he meant to do when he reached the city. There was nowhere he could go, but perhaps, if he could only find something isolated, some abandoned building perhaps, where he would at least be left in peace with his grief, and not have whispering over his hidden face…

Then he looked up, really looked up, and saw the billowing storm clouds coming.

It was too late to turn back. Besides, Erik stood frozen for a few seconds, all but gaping at the enormous gray mountain of cloud rushing towards him. It was undignified, but he had never seen anything like it in his secluded life. The wide world was still relatively new to him, and this…this belonged only in a madman's nightmares.

By the time Erik snapped out of his daze, the cloud was right in front of him. The best he could do was brace himself.

It happened in the blink of an eye. One minute he could see almost everything, the next everything blanked out.

Erik took a cautious step downwards—or in the direction he believed would carry him down the slope. He took another, and then another. The wind fought him at every step, but at least he didn't stumble and fall.

* * *

Elsa's foot skidded along the ice, and she nearly faceplanted. Somehow, by a miracle of flailing and balance, she managed to catch herself, then ran on.

The storm swirled around her. Seconds ago, it had merely been a mild snowstorm, as in any winter, but now she could only see about ten feet in front of her. She rushed onward in the direction she thought she remembered seeing mountains. As the storm grew more intense, visibility dropped. Elsa couldn't tell for sure if she still had her directions straight, or if she was going off course. Yet recalling what lay behind her, and what would happen to Arendelle if she didn't get away from it, she had no choice but to run as far and as fast as possible.

* * *

_I should have turned around._

The thought ran through Erik's mind, not for the first or second or even the fifth time. He'd foolishly believed the distance between the city and himself wouldn't take that much time to cover, even in a snowstorm. Now, however, he questioned the wisdom of that assumption. His right hand was going numb from holding on to his mask, keeping it on. He'd even tried to turn around, but the blank whiteness of the blizzard totally destroyed his sense of direction. For all Erik knew, he might be going in circles.

Then a blurry figure ahead caught Erik's eye. It was so slender and pale, and it vanished so quickly, that at first he thought he'd imagined it. But then he saw it again, wavering through the swirling snow.

The figure drew closer, and took on a human shape-then a very clearly feminine shape. All at once, like a specter from the storm, a familiar pale face, wide blue eyes, and slender body cloaked in sparkling blue appeared before Erik's astonished eyes and stopped dead.

"Elsa?" Erik recalled the wind and raised his voice. "Elsa? Is that you?"

* * *

The tall, well-built form of a man made Elsa gasp in shock and fear. She nearly bolted, but then the purple mask caught her eye. She stared in shock. Could it be-

"Elsa? Is that you?"

The man's voice settled it. Elsa's heart skipped. What was he doing here?

"Erik?" Her voice shook. "What...what are you doing here?"

"Elsa!"

The new voice made Elsa stiffen again. She slowly turned around, to face Hans—Prince of the Southern Isles.

"Elsa!" Hans stepped closer. Something about him looked…different. He had always given the impression of being a kind, friendly, sincere person. It was not that all of this had gone, but there was a new harsh edge in his eyes and manner that Elsa couldn't quite put her finger on. "You can't run from this!"

Elsa closed her eyes. _I can't run? I can't not. I'll destroy Arendelle if I'm anywhere close to it. Anna will be happier…she needs to be safe._

"Just take care of my sister." Her voice did not crack just a little at the end.

"Your sister?" Hans' eyes got even harder, and his voice took on more of that harshness. "She returned from the mountain weak and cold. She said that you froze her heart."

"No," Elsa breathed. All thoughts of Erik were forgotten, everything focused on Anna. Hans continued, "Her skin was ice, her hair turned white. I tried to save her, but it was too late."

Everything in Elsa's body seemed to go numb. She felt like a disembodied ghost. _No, no, no…_

"Your sister is dead because of you!"

A whirlwind of memories flooded Elsa's mind.

_Anna laughing, jumping from one snowy hill to another. Jumping too quickly into space. Elsa's foot slipping, then Anna's cry, cut off by a soft __thump __and that dreadful silence. A white streak in Anna's hair._

_Your sister is dead._

"If you don't control your powers, Elsa, you'll be no better than an animal, that eats whatever it wants whenever it wants and doesn't listen to anyone. You need to learn to control it, for Anna's sake."

_Anna is dead. _

"Say it after me, sweetheart. _Conceal, don't feel. Don't let it show._"

_Because of me._

"MONSTER!"

"No." It came out as barely a whisper, and then Elsa's voice stopped. She wanted to speak, to scream, to cry, but everything welled up so strongly that she couldn't express any of it. The pressure of it all brought her collapsing to her suddenly weak knees, and bowing down, unable to look around, unable to think because if she didn't maybe this wouldn't be real.

"Elsa." Erik's voice, distant, pleading. His hand, too, on her shoulder, so, so distant. None of it mattered. Nothing could touch her right now.

Elsa never remembered what happened next, because she never really saw it. Her only view of it came through three things; a scuffle and a single-word cry.

The first came immediately after she crumpled to the ground. Erik's hand suddenly left her shoulder and she remembered him asking something like, "What are you doing?"

"Step out of the way." Hans' voice didn't sound gentle or kind at all now.

Then Elsa heard a scuffling sound, like two people struggling, mixed with pants and grunting. It tugged at her enough to raise her head slightly in vague bewilderment. But everything had slowed to practically a standstill.

The second actually roused her out of her stupor, because she knew the voice. And despite everything, despite what Hans had told her and her shock, a flame of hope flared to life once more in her chest at the sound.

"No!"

* * *

The sound of the girl's cry startled Erik. Cold and lingering fatigue had taken their toll on his body, and the ice made his feet slip. Just as he started to struggle up, the sound of a girl's cry rang in his ears.

"No!"

Hans himself almost paused. Just for a second, he slowed down, and started to turn.

A bluish-tinged blur shot in between Hans' blade and Elsa's crumpled figure. Erik caught one brief glimpse of wide, pleading eyes, braids, and cloaked body coated with a strange bluish tinge, one hand uplifted in the air.

_Elsa's sister? But-_

Then white frost spread like water over her whole body. Hans' sword met the girl's hand—a hand that now looked like pure ice—and sprang away broken. A sudden shock wave of cold air blasted Hans back onto the ice and he lay there unmoving.

Anna didn't move. She couldn't move. Where once a living girl had stood, an ice sculpture stood, tragically perfect, one hand still held high in supplication.

Erik's heart stopped. The look in Elsa's eyes when Hans had told her her sister was dead still seared into his mind somehow. It was a look of complete and utter despair—a feeling he knew well. Now…

"No!"

_Oh, no…_

She had seen. Elsa was already on her feet. She was staring at Anna, still frozen in place. Then she rushed over to the other girl. "Oh, no…please…,"

Then she crumpled over Anna's body, sobbing.

This time, Erik couldn't move. Elsa's broken sobbing filled the gray, frozen plain. The snow had stopped falling, and the wind had fallen silent.

Erik barely noticed when the young fair-haired man from earlier hurried up and stopped dead-_Kristoff-_the snowman at his heels. He could only watch, helpless. Before, when he saw Elsa weeping, he'd had words of comfort to give. Now, what could he say? What could he do? Her sister, the one she'd given up everything for, was dead.

A strange burning in Erik's eyes compelled him to turn away and wipe them. Christine, Raoul, the opera house…suddenly all of it came crashing down on him. It welled up in his chest like a rock where his heart should have been and closed his throat, making breathing next to impossible.

Then the gasps from the others made him slowly turn his head around. And when he saw Anna, he actually rose to his feet, his eyes wide.

A spot of magenta expanded outward from Anna's heart, wiping away the bluish ice. It spread outward until her whole cloak was turned back, and then it spread up her throat to her face, her hair, everywhere.

Elsa sensed the change, and slowly raised her head. Erik could still hear her gasping sobbing breaths—but then they caught. She stood bolt upright, her wet eyes wide with shock.

"Anna?" She breathed.

The other girl smiled—Erik saw it from the side. Next moment, Elsa had her arms wrapped round her waist and her face buried in the other girl's shoulder.

The burning in Erik's eyes intensified. But he didn't feel compelled to move the mask just to wipe away the water beginning to slowly trickle down his face. Otherwise, he would have cleaned his face immediately.

Of course he would.

At last, Elsa seemed content to let go of Anna, but she still looked at her as if her sister would vanish any second. The broken look in her eyes, the perpetual slight sadness, all of it was gone.

"You sacrificed yourself for me?"

"I love you."

The three words made Erik close his eyes and turn away, and oh God he prayed the others couldn't see his shoulders shaking…

"An act of true love will thaw a frozen heart!" Turning, Erik could see through a watery haze that Olaf was practically dancing for excitement and joy.

"Love…," Elsa sounded shocked, then a smile crept into her voice. "Of course! Love!"

"Elsa?" Anna asked, then she gasped.

All around them, the snow began to rise up off of the ground. It left the earth and swirled into the air in vast ribbons of frost. Erik turned around and then he saw the source of it.

Elsa had her arms spread out like she wanted to embrace it all, and as she slowly raised them, the snow followed.

Erik's numb fingers would barely obey him, but he managed to pinch himself. For the tenth time, he wanted to convince himself he was dreaming, but the dream never faded. It was real. All of it, Elsa, everything. It was real.

The snow rose from the city now. Houses lost their snowy caps, the snowdrifts swirled upward in a reverse snowfall.

A massive cracking sound drew Erik's attention. A short distance away, the ice beneath them had begun to crack.

All at once, the ground beneath Erik's feet dipped, and rose. He swore and glanced down, then backed up. The "plain" they had been standing in had been a frozen ship channel. Luckily, they all stood on the deck of one of those ships. Erik had no choice but to clutch the railing and stare as ice rose from the ship and the ship from the…water, which flowed and heaved and swelled as the ice coating rose from it, to join everything else in the clouds.

As all the frost and snow gathered in the sky, even the clouds drew towards the mass, leaving a flawless blue porcelain sky behind.

Then Elsa made a gesture with her arms, and the whole gathered mass disappeared. Summer sunshine bathed everything in warmth. For the first time, Erik could see Arendelle the way it should be.

Anna grinned. "I knew you could do it," she said confidently. Then she turned around to face Erik. Her eyes bulged, and her mouth fell open.

Elsa saw her expression, then turned. "Erik-," she began, then her own eyes grew large.

"What?" Erik took a step forward, then his foot hit something. He glanced down, then his blood turned cold, as if all the ice had been banished into his veins.

The mask lay at his feet, and he stood exposed. Naked.

Doomed.

* * *

**Ahhh…I am evil! So evil! I am so sorry, my friends! But at least now is where Frozen storylines end and I begin to make my oooown plot. Mwahahaha! Until next time, my friends!**


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9_

**A/N: I…am so sorry, guys. (waves meekly.) I'm not even gonna make any promises from now on, except that I really do try. It's just…life has been really busy. There's choir and classes which I kind of need to do well in, and then I went and got myself a position on my college campus newspaper. Guess what my job on staff is…a writer! (Trumpet noises) Doo doo doo doo!**

**I'm really enjoying it so far. I get to write articles on things like music and the struggles of a nerd, and we've got some seriously cool people on staff. One of which includes my history professor, who, not to brag, but-this guy needs to be president. Of the universe. He's just that awesome. XD So yeah, I'm lucky.**

**But anywho…yeah. Things have been busy in a good way, but that doesn't make it take up any less of my time. And that doesn't even cover things outside of school. I do have friends…and I need to eat, and sleep, dammit! I'm a human being, not a machine! (Fake sobs, loudly)**

**Sorry. Just being a little melodramatic. But seriously, I looked at the date I posted the last chapter, and I wanted to hit myself in the head with a hammer. I didn't mean to neglect you guys for almost a month…again…**

**Guest reviews: there were none. So on to the chapter! Yayyy!**

* * *

_Bliss._

Utter and complete bliss. The lack of tension, of perpetual fear, that Elsa had carried her entire life now made her feel as light as one of the snowflake-laden winds currently swirling upward towards the clearing sky. She had carried the burden so long, that she realized she'd come to only notice about half of the weight…though it had all pressed down on her.

_Love! Of course. Love was the key. It's so simple._

Elsa closed her eyes and tilted her head all the way back, letting out a brief bubbling laugh of sheer joy. Nothing in her whole life had ever felt this amazing. Power was surging out of her, but this time, it was the power of love, and nothing was being frozen. Snow rose off the houses, the trees, the streets. Where once snow-sprinkled pines and bare branches lingered, greenery sprang forth. Water heaved and rocked in the fjord beneath and around the ship beneath their feet, freed from its tomb of ice.

Elsa raised her arms even higher. The small snowstorm above the city swept upward into the sky, which now looked mostly blue, with a few strokes of white painted across it. She focused even harder.

The snow gathered itself into a gigantic swirl, which formed, involuntarily, into the shape of a crystal. After a moment's thought, Elsa took a deep breath.

She glanced over at Anna, at Olaf and Kristoff, and allowed her surge of affection to rise. And in the same breath, she willed the warmth she felt to go into the ice and snow, dissolving it.

A wave of her hand, and the crystal melted with a soft hiss.

Gone. Nothing now remained but blue sky and a city warmed by a summer sun.

_I can't believe it._ Elsa breathed more freely than she had done in a long time. From now on, she would never need to fear her own powers. She would never need to try and lock down all her emotions, hiding from the world physically and internally, in order to prevent catastrophe, because Olaf had helped her unlock the key to the thaw. Elsa was free.

Turning towards Anna, Elsa opened her mouth to say…something utterly inadequate, like _thank you so much_, or _I can't believe this_. But then she saw Anna's face, and stopped short.

"What's wrong?" She asked, turning around to face the object of Anna's stare, and then she gasped. Probably it was rude, but it was certainly involuntary.

For behind them stood a man with two faces. On the left side, his left, the man had straight, regular features and clear marble skin. Indeed, Elsa would have called him handsome if the other half of his face had matched. The slightly broken-looking hook nose marked the boundary between a whole constellation of scars, boils, and ugly blotches of skin that reminded her of dragon scales. Instead of a smooth covering of hair, only a few thin, nearly white strands covered the man's bald scalp. This man had the face of an angel and the face of a gargoyle, at the same time.

The man's eyes widened, and Elsa saw an alarming light ignite inside them—a light which, had she looked often into a mirror, she would have recognized as coming from the desperation, the kind of desperation only a cornered animal should feel.

Then his eyes traveled around, and down, until they came to rest on something lying at his feet. Without realizing it, Elsa's eyes went there, too. She frowned, and on a second glance, she gasped. A purple thing, a cloth thing, with two holes in it that would fit two eyes…

_It can't be._ Elsa's eyes traveled over the man's coat, his pants, his shoes. Then she glanced around, seeking Erik, with his familiar mask, but instead she saw only Anna, Kristoff, Sven, and Olaf, who had now joined her sister in staring at the man. Hans lay crumpled in a corner, and Elsa dismissed him from her thoughts almost immediately.

Turning around, Elsa saw the man bending down, fumbling for the purple thing…the mask…with shaking fingers, and then slamming it over his face—sealing his identity.

"_Erik_?" Elsa almost whispered. She'd wondered why the stranger wore that mask, constantly, but she didn't speculate too long. Now she knew what he'd tried to hide.

Erik's tormented eyes flew up to meet hers, and the intensity of rage, humiliation, and raw terror actually took her breath away. He stood up and backed away from the others, his chest heaving—obviously from emotion, because he hadn't been panting before.

"Don't come near me. Just let me go. Forget what you've seen here. Don't tell anyone, if you have an ounce of humanity. Just let me go, give me a place to stay, or some safe passage out of here."

"I…I didn't…," Of all the really, really inappropriate times to become inarticulate, this had to take first place. But right then, Elsa couldn't have formed complete sentences to save her life.

* * *

"What are you staring at!" Erik half-screamed, half-snarled at all of them. He finished tying the mask in place. Their eyes still burned into him, through the cloth. They'd all seen, and now they knew. Humiliation and terror pounded through his veins like alcohol, and the combination was driving him insane. He'd held together his fury at the world after Christine, for so long. To be exposed, again, for people to scream and shudder at, to mock and jeer, or worse, to be simply pitied, like an invalid child, after the opera house, after everything, was too much for anyone to bear.

Elsa blinked, and for the first time, stopped looking dazed. She turned towards Anna, and the others, and said quietly, "Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, stop gawking. It's rude to stare."

Anna started, and then she politely directed her eyes to the mast. "Oh, of course." Kristoff and Olaf also did the same. Even Sven turned, though he probably just wanted to look at whatever his master had turned to see.

Erik stared. Nobody turned their eyes away. Nobody ever did. They always said they couldn't bear to look, but they did anyway. And they screamed, and they shuddered, and worst of all, they laughed.

_Does she…pity me? _

All at once, Erik found himself back in the circus, a child again. Once, a family passed by with a little girl. The man wore a top hat and tails, and the woman had a bonnet on it with flowers and imitation cherries on it. The little girl had brown curls and wide blue eyes. They came into the circus sideshow tent, and passed around among all the freaks. The man usually didn't laugh, but surveyed them with wide, interested eyes. The woman would often laugh, and point her child towards them. The little girl didn't giggle, but looked in wonder. Sometimes she would go up to talk to the freaks. Then they came to his cage.

The man stared at him openly, his pipe nearly falling out of his mouth. "My God," he breathed. "That's unbelievable."

His wife also stared, but Erik could see the whites of her eyes. Even though she sat safely on the other side of the cage, out of reach of whips and sticks, though none of her flaws, if she had them, were exposed for the world to see, she looked as afraid as Erik was in that moment.

Her daughter was evidently trying to see over the heads of the crowd, but her mother grabbed her hand and started pulling her and her husband away.

"I don't want you to look at that one," she'd said clearly.

"Oh, come-," the man began.

"I don't want her looking at the Devil's Child," the wife commented. "She'll have nightmares, and I won't have that."

All at once, Erik blinked. He was not in the cage. He stood on the deck of a ship, in a fjord in Arendelle, far from France. The incident had literally never come forward in his memory before, but now all of a sudden he could recall it clear as the day around him.

Then Erik realized what had brought the memory back. He almost laughed, except he sensed the laugh would be impossible to stop for minutes on end. Elsa might well have said, _I don't want you looking at that ugly thing. It'll frighten you._ She wanted them to avert their eyes to protect themselves from fear, and soiling their minds with the memory of his face.

"Go on and look," he sneered. "Are you all afraid? Go ahead! You know you want to stare and talk about how disgusting I am, so just get on with it!"

Elsa turned back towards him, and her eyes widened in shock, and distinct horror.

_Here it comes._ Erik shouldn't feel so strong a tinge of pain that this woman in particular was about to demean him, call him a monster.

"What? We…why would we do that? You're not disgusting."

At this, Erik couldn't hold back any longer. He threw his head back and laughed. It rang across the deck of the ship and over the fjord, and the whole city could probably hear it. The laugh sounded insane, wild, and yet somehow as if hot pincers were wringing it out of him. Erik didn't even care. They'd already seen his face, what difference would it make how he acted? _Might as well throw lunatic into the bargain. As if you're actually sane…I don't know anymore._

"What...what's so funny?" Elsa sounded more than a little disturbed. Erik didn't blame her. And he didn't care. He didn't.

"You think I'm not disgusting?" Erik's laughter began finally to subside. He gestured wildly towards his masked face. "Didn't you feast your eyes? Did you not see me?"

"Of course I saw you," Elsa actually sounded gentle, which only made Erik's fury mount. Before he had a chance to express it, Elsa continued. "I know your face isn't the prettiest I've ever seen. But it's not disgusting. And neither are you. Don't ever call yourself that again."

The strength and emotion of her last sentence, coupled with the open, absolutely honest expression of her pale face and blue eyes, left absolutely no doubt about her sincerity. Nobody since Madame Giry had ever been able to see past his face, and had let him know it. Although even she had never said so in quite so many words.

And not only saying he wasn't a monster, but saying _his face wasn't disgusting_…

"Are you all blind?" Erik's voice sounded hoarse, but probably because he'd just screamed at them all.

"My eyes are fine," Elsa replied firmly, but with the hint of a gentle smile on her face.

Erik searched her face. He could see none of the cautious compassion of Madame Giry, none of the nervousness of Meg, and certainly none of the revulsion and shock that he had seen in the eyes of thousands. The only time anyone else had ever looked at him in that way was when Christine…

Erik pulled his mind away from such thoughts. Something had gotten stuck in his throat, but he hadn't eaten since he'd stolen his breakfast that morning.

"You…," he took a deep breath. "You know nothing about me. If you knew why I'd been forced to leave my home, you would want to cast me over the side of this ship into the river."

"Fjord," Anna corrected. She now turned to look at him. He saw caution in her eyes, but also that same look as he saw in Elsa's, and no real fear. "The correct term is fjord. Fee-yord. Don't worry, I get it confused a lot, too."

"Are you all out of your minds?" Erik had to whisper, because otherwise his voice would shake, and he would not display such weakness. "I…am a monster. Not just because of my face. If only it were that simple…I…I am not fit to associate with any decent man, woman, or child."

"I ran away from my home," Elsa cut in. "I covered the country I was supposed to rule, the country I had to protect, in an eternal winter, and then I ran away. I nearly _killed_ my own sister." She definitely flinched when she said that. "People called me a monster. But Anna," she turned towards Anna, "believed in me. She saved my life. And Olaf taught me how to reverse the winter I'd caused. I don't know what you did, or why you had to leave your home, but I do know that you stayed with me when you knew it wasn't safe. You'd never met me before, but you told me about yourself, and you gave me your song. You helped me hold on, at least until Hans and his men came."

"Ugh…," A groan came from the side of the ship. All eyes turned towards the sound, and a soft scraping and shuffling which came from the same source.

Well, speak of the devil. Erik's lips set in a hard line. He started to move towards Hans, unsure what he intended to do, but sure of one fact—Hans' appearance would satisfy him a great deal more after he, Erik, had rearranged the basic structure of the man's face. Once again, a fiery tide of rage built in his chest.

"Ah, ah, ah-," Anna pushed a hand against the chest of an extremely peeved-looking Kristoff. She turned and marched over towards Hans.

The scoundrel had just pulled himself upright, and was now rubbing his head. He turned around, and then stopped dead, staring at Anna.

"Anna…but she…froze your heart!" It sounded weak even from him.

"The only frozen heart around here is yours," Anna replied curtly. She turned around and started to walk away.

Just as Erik started towards Hans, again, Anna spun around, grabbed Hans by the collar, and drove her fist into his face. She let go, and the worthless wretch tumbled over the side with a cry of pain and surprise.

Kristoff let out a whistle, Olaf broke out laughing, and Elsa applauded. Erik stood still, his nails digging red crescents into his palms. He felt a little lost, robbed of his rage, and once again exposed and on the spot. However, he did feel another surge of admiration for this Anna. She had spirit, a more than average helping, from what little he'd seen.

Elsa was the first to remember him. She turned back towards him, her luminous blue eyes alight with merriment in a way that made her look several years younger. Almost all of it, however, fled when her eyes lighted on his face, but they also softened into that almost unbearable compassion.

"You may stay here with us, here, in Arendelle, if you want," she said softly. "We have plenty of guest rooms. I think, more than we've ever actually used. You would be more than welcome."

Erik reached around behind his back and pinched his own skin, hard enough to leave a bruise. He felt no signs of waking up, but everything still felt so surreal he could hardly comprehend that this wasn't a dream. First Elsa had seen his face and refused to be afraid of it or him—something even Christine had not managed at first sight. Now she was offering him a place to stay in her palace? Elsa and Erik had shared perhaps fifteen minutes in the same room before today. For all she knew, he could be the Emperor of China or…a criminal. _Murderer_…a voice whispered. Yet she treated him just like an old friend she had known her whole life.

"Why are you doing this?" His voice did not go hoarse. He tried to sound as harsh as possible in order to make up for it. Thank God, if Elsa noticed, she didn't immediately start looking down her nose in pity at him. There was the difference between true compassion and the sort of offensive pity that degraded the victim's strength and sense of self out of a sense of that person's weakness. Erik ought to know—he'd seen both enough times.

Elsa looked at him—really looked, through the mask, through the memory of the repulsive ugliness beneath which must still linger in her mind, through his lingering simmering anger and pain. The penetrating clearness of her eyes made him feel rather naked, but not uncomfortable enough to look away.

At last Elsa broke the contact for a brief moment. Her lips formed into a small, soft smile. "Because I owe you one."

Erik blinked stupidly at her for a second. Seeing his confusion, Elsa opened her lips and sang. The sweet strong clarity of her voice surprised Erik all over again.

_"Little child, be not afraid_

_The rain pounds harsh against the glass_

_Like an unwanted stranger_

_There is no danger_

_I am here tonight."_

Understanding dawned, and Erik's eyes widened involuntarily. His lips formed trembling words, though they came out more like a faint whisper than a tune, through the mask.

_"And someday you'll know_

_That nature is so_

_This same rain that draws you near me,"_

Elsa's voice joined in with his, and Erik's voice gained some of its strength back as they finished the chorus, softly, in unison, their gazes locked.

_"Falls on rivers and land_

_And forests and sand_

_Makes the beautiful world that you see in the morning."_

The soft smile from before graced Elsa's face as they finished. Her eyes shone with wonder. Then she glanced down, folding her hands, as if feeling suddenly shy by the peculiar moment.

A loud clapping sound startled Erik, and drew the pair's attention towards the source. Anna finished applauding after a few seconds, and then smiled at Erik and Elsa. She had an extraordinarily warm and open smile, and Erik could see not a trace of fear or shrinking, even as she glanced at him.

"Wow, you two sound really good together! You've got a great voice!" Anna pointed at Erik. "Almost as beautiful as Elsa's—I mean, your voice isn't beautiful." She waved her hands towards Erik. "It's handsome—wait, can a voice be handsome? Cause I don't really know if you're supposed to call a guy's voice beautiful-,"

"Anna, relax. It's fine." Elsa smiled with more familiar fondness at her fumbling sister. "It's okay to say a man's voice is beautiful. And it's especially appropriate in this case." She smiled at Erik, and the motion seemed to make her cheeks two shades pinker than before.

Something warm and liquid seemed to expand inside Erik's chest. It went out from his heart and began to envelop his insides, and no matter what happened next, he knew that something had thawed inside him, just a little—and he didn't want to undo it, whatever it was. He could mourn anytime—he had years to do it. But right now, it was marvelous to feel just a little good again.

"I will stay, in—Arendelle." Everyone turned back to face him automatically. Erik had to force his spine to stay straight, as if the discomfort of four—five, counting the reindeer—pairs of eyes on him didn't exist. "If you wish."

Elsa smiled at him again. "I do."

* * *

**The writing juices are flowing, and I am feeling inspired! I won't make a promise I don't know I'll be able to keep, but the story will go on! Reviews are love! Live long and prosper!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey! School is out! Sorry I took so long, but the last few weeks of my spring semester were exceedingly busy. Finals are over now, so I have OODLES of time.**

**Guest reviews:**

**Penwieldingrose: **Aww, thank you! I'm so glad the moment had the impact I wanted!

**Jaz: **Yes, indeedy :)

* * *

"And these are the regular guest rooms. You're welcome to pick whichever one you want."

Erik followed Anna into one of the rooms indicated. It wasn't as palatial as the ones Anna had told him were reserved for ambassadors and foreign heads of state, but it was still grand. That in and of itself wasn't what got under his skin. The room was so…neat, so ordered. His own home had order, but he had made that order himself. Someone else had made this. And there was so much daylight. Erik still couldn't get used to the amount of light. It made him feel more vulnerable than before, more dependent on his mask.

_It's not your home, anyway, _Erik tried to remind himself. _I won't be here very long._

_But where are you going to go?_

_I'll figure it out, _Erik clenched his fists in irritation.

"Are you okay?" Erik started far more than he should have. Anna stared at him, her eyes full of concern with a hint of sheer anxiety. Recalling the way he'd exploded on the ship just a short time ago, Erik couldn't say he blamed Anna for being a little nervous. He still couldn't quite wrap his head around just how little fear Anna seemed to feel towards him—unless she had far better acting skills than he imagined.

"I'm fine." He turned away, thankful for the mask, uncomfortable and slightly itchy as it felt.

Anna took him on down the hallway, pausing at each room briefly to point out various merits, all in a nonstop rapid-fire monologue that rather impressed Erik with Anna's breath control. They had just gotten down to the end of the hallway, when something caught Erik's attention.

"What is that?"

"What is what? Oh!" Anna stared curiously at the same thing Erik had noticed—a door-shaped shadow on the end of the hall.

"That leads up to the attic." Anna strolled over and pushed down. Erik heard a rusty creak and the door swung open a few inches.

"Whoa! Huh, it still works. I haven't been up here in ages."

"Up where?"

"Like I said. The attic."

A curious idea stirred in Erik's mind.

"Show me."

* * *

Anna led Erik up one of the most enormous and unstable staircases he'd ever encountered. The steps were all made of wood which looked dusty and ancient, and the metal railing was covered with rust. Several times, Erik had to pause and shake his hand free of a cobweb that he'd reached right into. Anna did the same, shuddering in disgust far more than Erik did.

The further the staircase led up, the more the light grew, until finally Anna stopped before another rickety-looking door.

"Hope it…works," Anna spoke through her teeth as she struggled with the door. She finally got the door to work and it swung open with a massive groan.

Anna turned and gave Erik a quick, hopeful grin, so warm Erik had to return the favor. Then Anna led him up the last few steps.

When Erik heard the word attic, he thought of something small, so he involuntarily ducked his head as he passed through the door. When he saw the room beyond, he straightened up and stared up, eyes widening in surprise.

Wooden boards covered with dust spread out through a room about half as wide as the main cavern in his home. But the height…it might not rival the main hall in the Opera Populaire…maybe the ceiling on stage, but it was still high enough to give the whole room an open feel. But yet the windows were closed up, so it was still dim enough to suit Erik's taste exactly. He could see a large, dark rather shapeless thing sitting in the middle of the room, but besides that, it was entirely bare.

"Wow," Anna's footsteps drew Erik's attention. She pattered across the floor towards the windows. "I haven't been up here in ages. We used to use this place for astronomy lessons. I wanted to play up here, but Elsa was afraid of taking the stairs, so she didn't want to come up here unless she absolutely had to." Anna slid back dark curtains over one window, and light streamed in through a dirty glass, falling in a long rectangular prism on the floor.

Erik began to move around, cautiously, keeping his hands to himself but his eyes roaming over everything. The dark hump in the middle of the floor turned out to be something large, covered with a dark cloth.

Erik slowly pulled the cloth up from the floor, and peered underneath.

A wooden leg slowly revealed itself, then green siding of…something. Erik pulled the entire cloth to one side with a long sweep of the arm, and saw a green chaise longue, complete with a pillow and a folded blanket at its head. Thin golden vines curled over the entire surface of the emerald upholstery.

"Wow! Oh, I forgot about this!" Anna hurried over. "This room belonged to our astronomy tutor way back when. He slept up here. He used to take us up here to stargaze, and teach us about the stars?"

"Really?" Erik ran a wondering hand over the chaise longue. The silken cloth had perhaps a thin film of dust on it, no more. "Where is he now?"

"Well…he died about a year before our parents did." Anna's voice lost its happy sparkle.

"I'm sorry." Unconsciously, Erik's voice had dropped almost to a whisper.

"It's okay." Anna sighed and sat down on the pillow. Immediately dust rose up and she coughed. "Oh, man!"

Erik had to smile under his mask. Then a curious idea occurred to him. "Mademoiselle, do you think the queen would mind if I took this room?"

"What? Oh, no! I'm sure she wouldn't. Nobody's used this room in ages." Anna looked around as if bewildered. "There are plenty of way nicer rooms downstairs. Are you sure _this _is the one you-,"

"I want this one." Erik looked around. "It may not be much, but…I'm used to the darkness. And I prefer some measure of privacy, so…,"

"Okay." Anna shrugged and stood up. "Suit yourself."

She turned around and surveyed the chaise longue with her hands on her hips. "Hmm…this thing must be covered with dust. Well, there's one way to fix it!"

Before Erik could ask what, Anna grabbed the pillow and blanket and slapped them over and over, until clouds of dust flew. She then immediately scooted them out of the way, and the dust began to settle on her and on the chaise longue. She brushed it all down for several minutes, then shook out the pillow and blanket one more time, over the floor. The whole time, Erik watched her with startled amusement. Then Anna dumped the pillow and folded blanket on the end of the chaise longue and turned towards Erik, covered with dust, but smiling.

"Well! That's better," she said cheerfully.

Erik couldn't explain where the urge to laugh came from, but it bubbled up from the feeling of warmth coming from inside him. He hadn't felt the need to laugh in so long, but these people, especially Anna made him want to.

* * *

"All this?" Elsa couldn't believe her eyes. She'd thought her return would put the kingdom in order, and that would be that. It hadn't occurred to her, in the confusion over the last few days, exactly what might be required to do that very thing. Ordering the kingdom, that is. She had just dealt with all the confused ambassadors, who had only seen Anna's death and resurrection happen from a distance and were a tad confused as to the details on the whole affair. But at least the death part had cast considerable doubt on Hans' (the lying sack of dirt's) word, so they were much more inclined to believe Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff.

Now she saw the second part of what she had to get through, and she remembered it as her parents' old enemy.

Paperwork.

It lay neatly organized all over her desk. Several treaties, and one execution order, for whom she couldn't tell yet.

"I'm afraid so, your Majesty. But it's not that bad. Now that you're back, and no longer a criminal, we can get rid of this. The treaties you'll have to look over." The Minister of Trade gestured towards the others, quickly snatching up the one execution order. All at once Elsa's blood ran cold.

"You mean…those men were going to have me executed?" Elsa's voice shook a little at the end, a fact she hated.

"I'm afraid so, your Majesty," Ola—that was his name, Elsa thought, said soberly.

"Who's getting executed?" Anna's voice startled Elsa out of a frightening turn of thought.

"Anna?" Elsa unconsciously looked for Erik, and was confused when she couldn't see him. "Oh…nothing." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ola tearing up the paper.

"That's not what I heard. Is…are you going to execute Hans?" Anna looked shocked and little taken aback.

"No. But I am going to have to decide what to do about him. He's caused an international incident, and I cannot overlook it. But I don't want to do anything that might cause trouble with the Southern Isles…," Elsa shook her head.

Anna frowned, her brow furrowing. Then a slow smile began to spread across her face. "Well,_ I_ have an idea."

"What?"

"Well…," Anna grinned wickedly. "Our dear prince once told me he has twelve big brothers. We could just ship him back to them under guard, have them told what happened, and let them decide. That way, it's on them, so they won't get ticked off at us-,"

"But the ball's in their court as to what they do with someone who attacked the queen of our country," Ola replied in wonder, then he began to grin as well.

Anna downright _smirked, _which Elsa had never seen before. "So basically, they _have _to do _something, _unless they want to cause trouble with _us."_

Elsa clapped a hand over her mouth, which had fallen open. She grinned behind her hand. "Anna, have I ever told you you're a genius?"

"No, but it's sweet of you." Anna smiled at Elsa.

* * *

"Finally," Elsa groaned. The last treaty had been negotiated, either accepted or amended. Except in the case of Whistleton. Elsa's advisors had told her enough about the place and its government that made Elsa decide a dignified retreat would be the one way to emerge from business with them in a good financial and diplomatic state. Now she was finally able to walk out of the room where she'd been cooped up all afternoon, feeling tired but satisfied with her efforts.

She rolled her neck, and shrugged first one shoulder, then the other, wincing at the crackling sensation she felt. _I'm too young to start feeling old!_

"Elsa?"

Olaf turned the corner in front of Elsa, and then stopped before her, looking up. "Oh! Hi! Anna says to ask you when you might take a break, and if you wanted to eat supper with her, or in your office."

Elsa suddenly remembered Anna's voice, sad and resigned but always with that note of barely-there hope, her knocking, pleading with Elsa to come out, begging for just one moment with her sister, and blinked back a sudden stinging in her eyes.

"Of course I'll eat with her," she said in a rather choky voice. "Tell Anna I'm coming."

"Okay." Olaf looked up at Elsa, his eyes widening with concern. "Are you all right?"

Elsa blinked again, then swallowed back. The lump in her throat remained, but began to feel less tight. She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. The past was in the past, and feeling sorry for herself and Anna wouldn't change it. But now she had the rest of her life…of both her and Anna's lives, to try and make up for everything she'd missed, everything her sister had missed because of her.

"Yes," she said firmly. "I'm all right."

"Okay. I'm glad." Olaf smiled at her, then turned and trotted off on his short legs, leaving a trail of faint snowflakes in his wake from his permanent personal flurry.

Elsa smiled at the disappearing snowman, then sighed and began to follow him.

* * *

"Elsa!" Anna perked up in her chair as Elsa entered the dining room, her eyes bright with joy. "You came!"

Elsa stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Anna, her throat tightening all over again. Then she hurried forward and threw her arms around her sister.

Anna let out a surprised noise, but then she squeezed Elsa back, gently.

"I never want to leave you alone again," Elsa whispered, "Not if I can help it."

"Oh, Elsa," Anna whispered, "It's okay. I forgive you."

Elsa took several deep breaths, then let go and stepped back when she felt calm again. Anna was smiling at her, her eyes shining with contentment. Elsa smiled back, then she glanced around and her eyes widened.

"Oh, wow!"

"I know," Anna grinned sheepishly. "It's a bit big for our royal family."

The dining room wasn't quite as gigantic as Elsa's childhood memories, but it was still enormous for a royal family consisting of parents and two children. The walls were white, with pillars built into each corner of the room. A delicate white and gold pattern adorned the ceiling, and when Elsa glanced down, she saw a rich red carpet. Anna sat in one chair near the end of a surprisingly small table, one built for about six people, unlike the one in the public dining room, the one for feasts.

Kristoff sat in the one chair beside Anna, and Elsa blushed when she realized she hadn't even noticed him. She waved at him, smiling. "Hi."

"Hello." Kristoff smiled back, with no fear or reluctance.

_How is he so comfortable around me? _Elsa thought. _I just nearly killed his girlfriend, and buried an entire city._

"Ah…well." Elsa cleared her throat and stood up. "When is dinner going to be ready?" As if on cue, her stomach growled. She hadn't even thought about her bodily needs until now, but Elsa now realized she hadn't eaten since a brief lunch in the middle of the day, and it was now late afternoon.

"Well, it's ready now. We were just waiting to hear whether you were going to eat with us or not." Anna gestured towards a door, which was open a crack. Elsa gathered that led to the kitchen.

"Of course." Elsa glanced around before deciding on a seat right across from Anna. She didn't feel comfortable sitting in the chair at the head of the table.

"Oh!" She sat up, suddenly electrified by the memory of another guest of theirs. "Where's Erik? Did you ask him if he wanted to eat with us?"

"Uh…yeah." Anna blushed. "Well, remember how I came in and told you Erik was staying in the attic?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I went up to tell him dinner was ready and did he want to eat with us. But…well, he was asleep. So I just had a servant put some food on a tray and take it up to him."

Elsa's mouth dropped open, then she closed it and shook her head, smiling. _I don't blame him for being tired. It's been a long day for all of us. _

"Well, when I see him again, I'll tell him that in future, he's welcome to eat with us." Elsa glanced at the door behind her. "I'm ready whenever you guys are. I'm starved."

"Me, too!"

"Me, three." Kristoff grinned.

Elsa grinned as cleared her throat and called out, "You may bring the food in, now! Chow's on!"

Elsa giggled involuntarily, then cleared her throat and sat up formally. Anna raised an eyebrow at her and Elsa smiled back. Then servants came in, bearing plates of food.

_What did I do to deserve a life like this?_

* * *

"Damn," Erik groaned into the pillow. He buried his face in an unfamiliar, if soft surface.

He had slept like a log for hours, his body recovering from the strain of the last few days, but now dreams had woken him. He'd only lain there about ten minutes, but he already sensed sleep would not return anytime soon. His stomach now reminded him that he was ravenous, and hadn't eaten since the lavish meal Elsa had insisted on him having in the middle of the day.

Then he heard a soft crackling hiss.

Erik went dead still. He slowly reached by instinct for his lasso, before recalling that he'd left it behind. He was effectively defenseless.

The sound stopped. After a few moments, Erik raised his head and sat he saw the source, and his heart seemed to stop beating in his chest.

A slender feminine figure was moving towards the window. She had her back to him, but Erik could see the long, flowing white gown she wore, and a cascade of equally pale hair. In the faint moonlight, she looked ethereal and otherworldly—like a ghost.

Something closed up in Erik's throat. Normally, he didn't jump to supernatural conclusions. He was an artist, but at the same time, he was also a surprisingly practical man when it came to such things. But his mind still worked a little slowly, due to his recent awakening, and grief had fogged his brain. Not only that, his soul had just focused almost entirely on Christine, and her fate—of which he did not feel certain. Despite Christine's obvious trust in Raoul, the Phantom did not share the same feelings for the Viscount.

And considering the dream he had just had of his worst nightmare coming true for the one he still loved, the worst nightmare he'd ever experienced, perhaps it was not, as he berated himself later, entirely outrageous when he saw the pale woman and jumped to one conclusion. Before he could really think it through, the word exploded from his lips.

"Christine?"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

**A/N: I know, I'm back after such a short time! Miracle, right? Actually, I first wrote this like a couple weeks ago. I got hit with inspiration for this one chapter after listening to **_The Feast of Starlight_** from the Hobbit soundtrack, and to me, it's really fitting. It's one of those pieces that's fantastic if you want to get into the ZONE, creatively. I just now did some minor editing, and so here you go. Feel free to listen as you read. The one I listened to was **_The Feast of Starlight extended, by Howard Shore. _**It's on YouTube.**

**Thanks to all lurkers, readers, favoriters, followers, and reviewers. Keep being awesome, cause you guys are the best!**

* * *

Elsa felt horrible for sneaking into Erik's room. But in all honesty, she actually had forgotten he had chosen the attic observatory. Waking up fresh out of a set of nightmares didn't do wonders for a girl's powers of memory and reasoning. She'd seen a few stars sparkling in the sky out her window, and got hit with an idea that pleased her.

She hoped the sound of the ice staircase forming out her window and up the castle wall wouldn't wake anyone, but no one was alarmed when Elsa slipped out her window and made her way, creating more stairs as she climbed higher until she reached the top of the castle, where she could see an open window.

The ice on the windowsill made footing slippery, but Elsa managed to get her balance on it. She dissipated the staircase, then she turned and jumped down.

She hadn't taken three steps into the room, however, before she looked around and saw the chaise longue, with the figure curled up on it, and remembered. Her whole body went stiff and she gasped before she could remind herself to keep quiet. "Oh no…,"

Elsa closed her eyes for a moment, staving off disappointment. She could always look at the stars from outside, on the stairs. Sure, she would have an obstructed view, but Elsa couldn't stay in here. What if Erik woke up and found her? That would be embarrassing for both of them.

She turned and started to head back towards the window, when a clear, trembling voice made her freeze in her tracks.

"Christine?"

Elsa couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Erik had seen her—well, he clearly didn't know it was her, but thought someone else who looked like her was here. The way he said that name, as if he thought he'd just lost the most precious thing in the world…

At last, she found her voice. "It's…just me." Her own voice sounded loud and clumsy in her own ears. Elsa turned around so Erik could see her face.

Erik had his mask on, but even in the dark, she could see the glitter of his eyes. He lay back, breathing heavily, whether from anger, fear, or some other emotion she didn't know. "What are you doing here?"

"I...yeah. I am so sorry. I…honestly, I totally forgot you were in here. I—I mean, oh, that sounded bad. But I just—see, I had a dream, and, and I wanted to come up here, and—I, I wasn't thinking straight, so…,"

Erik raised his head again. Elsa stuttered to a stop under his gaze. She felt as if he was studying her words and her face, evaluating her.

Then his eyes seemed to soften. He lay back down. "It's all right." He sounded gentle now, the man who had comforted her when she was crying after sending Anna and Kristoff away. "Nightmares?"

Elsa nodded, feeling rather sheepish. "I have them a lot," she said, swaying uncertainly in place. "…anyway, I should go. You want to go back to sleep-,"

"Sleep…is eluding me at the moment."

"Oh."

_Brilliant, Elsa._

_Oh, shut up._

"Do you have nightmares too?"

Erik once again lifted his head. Then he sat up, and turned to the side, looking at the ground. "Not exactly. I just…," he lifted his face, then apparently decided against saying whatever he meant to say. "I fell asleep early in the afternoon and I woke just now, not needing any more."

"Oh." Elsa mulled it over before asking hesitantly, "Is it all right if I stay, then?"

Erik turned to look at her for a moment. She had no clue what he was thinking.

"Yes," he almost whispered, with a note of pleading.

Elsa wondered about it, but silently, and she came to the dais where Erik had made his bed. She hesitated a moment before sitting diffidently beside him. From about a foot away, she could feel warmth radiating from him.

It took Elsa a moment to remember why she came up here in the first place. "Did you know," she asked, unconsciously dropping to a rather conspiratorial whisper, "there's a door in the ceiling that opens right to the sky?"

"No."

Elsa smiled, and stood up. "Well...to be honest, that's why I came up here."

She walked across the room to the lever. It stuck out of the floor just where she remembered it. Elsa laid a hand on it and made a face at all the dust. Apparently nobody had come up here to stargaze in years. Even she hadn't been up here since…well, since her parents left Arendelle for the last time.

"This place may not look like much."

"I like it."

Elsa shrugged, glancing around. It wasn't a bad place—not drafty, but very dark and barely furnished. Why Erik had chosen such this attic, she couldn't imagine. But she didn't want to offend him, so she said,

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I was insulting it."

"You did not."

"Good." Elsa grinned. "Actually, you've got the best seat in the house, so to speak." She braced her feet against the floor, and wrapped both hands around the lever. _I wonder if it still works. Well, there's only one way to find out._

* * *

Before Erik could ask what Elsa was doing, she tugged hard on the lever. It groaned alarmingly, but with no results for a moment. Then a silver beam of moonlight fell onto the floor, and as Elsa pulled the lever further and further back, more and more moonlight flooded the room.

Erik tilted his head upward, squinting owlishly. A large section in the roof had opened like a trapdoor, showing a deep midnight sky so very deep, dark blue it looked almost black. And in that sky, stars, bright as diamonds, large and achingly clear, so many more than Erik had ever seen in his life. He began trying to count, then got mixed up, then tried to start over, and finally gave up. There were too many for him, too many for any human mind to count or comprehend the number of these stars.

"Pretty amazing, huh?"

At last, Erik managed to force his eyes back down to Earth. Elsa stood in the middle of the moon-drenched floor. Her white nightgown shimmered, sparkling with miniature stars in the folds of her skirt and long sleeves as if the whole thing had been woven out of diamonds and starlight. Her white-blonde hair hung free on her shoulders and down her back, some of it in front, so that Erik could see just how far down her waist it fell. The moonlight fell right on it, making it glow. In the light of the moon and stars, Elsa looked like a living star herself, as if she had descended from the sky, through the open roof, and come to rest in the room.

"What?" Elsa shifted self-consciously. Erik looked away.

"It is." Erik realized that he'd started whispering, though up here his voice could disturb no one.

"Yeah. This is the observatory slash attic." Elsa moved out of the circle of moonlight and sat down beside Erik. She lay back against the cushions, and gazed up, her eyes wide and shining as bright as the stars above. Erik decided against telling her that Anna had already told him this part. "I used to come up here all the time when I was younger. I went with my astronomy teacher. He was my favorite tutor. He used to bring me up here to show me the constellations, help me learn them…their names. I used to drag it out, try and stay up here as long as I could." She sighed. "I think he felt sorry for me because I was cooped up in my room all the time, so he let me badger him into coming once a week, maybe twice, and staying up here for hours."

"Why were you…cooped up?" Erik got the words out with difficulty. They sounded like rusty iron bars, the sting of a cudgel, people's faces and their ruthless laughter.

The light went out of Elsa's eyes. Erik wished he hadn't spoken, but Elsa replied before he could apologize. "I went into seclusion…voluntarily. Because I…I was scared of my powers. I…had an accident, when Anna and I were children. I accidentally struck Anna with my powers. My parents were furious, and they were scared. So was I." Elsa closed her eyes. "We went to see…well, my parents were afraid of what would happen if my powers grew. They'd been growing stronger my whole life. I was born with them. And they…I didn't want to hurt Anna again—or maybe someone else. So I stayed in my room all the time, unless I left it to go to the observatory with my astronomy tutor, and even that happened less and less often as I got older. I was afraid I was going to hurt him—or that he would find out."

"He didn't know?"

"Nobody knew." Elsa laughed, but it did not sound like her normal laugh. It sounded bitter and pained—and _old_. "My parents and I were the only ones that knew. At least, I think so. Anna didn't even know."

"So they didn't force you to stay there?" When Erik first met Elsa, she had tried to keep a distance between him, and everybody else. But he could tell that she didn't want it to be that way. She was tired of being cooped up, tired of hiding. "How old were you?"

"When I went into seclusion?" Elsa thought for a second. "Eight."

_Eight._

"Eight," Erik repeated disbelievingly. When he was eight…but he couldn't remember. He didn't even have a clear notion as to exactly how old he was now.

_How old were you when you killed the handler? How old were you when you ran away and hid in the opera house?_

_It was an accident. _Erik could smell that same stink, of fear and sweat and animal straw. He was so small, and scrawny, but he was desperate, and he wanted the man to stop _hitting_ him. But the man wouldn't _stop. _Somehow Erik had gotten a rope round the man's neck, and now he was so frightened and so desperate that all he could do was keep squeezing to try and silence the man's choked cries. Somebody would hear, and then he would get beaten ten times harder. If only the man would be _quiet…_he was so scared, and he didn't know what he was doing but the more than man thrashed the more Erik pulled tighter and tighter in his blind panic. Then the man fell absolutely still, and Erik finally managed to pry his fingers off the rope.

"Erik?"

Elsa's blue eyes looked into his, wide with sudden anxiety. Erik remembered where he was, and also realized he'd been holding his breath. He let it out and turned away, praying Elsa couldn't see his hands shake.

It was so long ago. He'd been young and abused and afraid and he hadn't quite understood what happened, not really. Even after little Antoinette Giry opened his cage and led him by back alleys to a secret door leading through a tunnel to the recesses beneath the opera house, Erik only dimly understood that he'd done a very bad thing and they would be horribly angry if they ever found him. He understood now, but it couldn't possibly be undone. Leave it, let it go. It had to be done. It's in the past. It-

_Murderer, _the voice screamed, _monster. Murderer._

"Are you all right?"

"Fine." The instinctive response, to snap out a reassurance. Sometimes it worked with Antoinette. Often it didn't, and it took a threat to get her to back off and stop questioning him.

"All right." Elsa sounded skeptical but she didn't push for details. She simply lay back and looked up.

"I like looking at the stars." Her voice sounded soft. "Somehow, when I look at them, I feel like all my problems are so insignificant, cause there's so much _more _out there. I like knowing that even when things go wrong, even if my world falls apart, the stars are always constant. It reminds me that there's always beauty and order, and peace somewhere in the world, even if I can't feel it where I am."

Erik looked up. The sheer vastness of the heavens overwhelmed him. He too felt insignificant, but he wasn't so sure he liked the feeling.

"I didn't know there were so many stars," he stated.

"Really? Do they have different stars where you lived?" Elsa's playful tone made Erik turn sharply, but he saw the sincerity in her eyes. It was a genuine question. She wasn't just trying to pry for details about his life.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I never looked at the stars much. The one time I looked up at the night sky, there were a few clouds in the sky, and what parts I could see—there looked like maybe a dozen stars, at most."

"A dozen at most?" Elsa sounded almost horrified. "That's awful."

"It's not that awful," Erik protested rather weakly.

"I suppose—it's just, I can't imagine never seeing more than maybe a dozen stars." Elsa sighed, then smiled. "It must be even more amazing for you."

"It's…overwhelming."

Elsa smiled. "Do you know any of the constellations?" she asked quietly.

Now it was Erik's turn for his laughter to sound forced. "I barely saw the stars."

"Oh." Elsa looked down, as if ashamed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"Then there's no need to apologize, is there?"

"I guess not." Elsa shrugged and smiled.

The next few moments passed by in silence.

"I can see the Big Dipper."

"What? Where?"

Elsa sat up and pointed. "Over there."

Erik squinted. He thought he could figure out what area in the myriad of stars Elsa was pointing to. She drew her finger down in a slightly crooked line, then drew a rectangular shape at the end of it. "See it?"

Erik stared for a long time, then he gasped. He could actually see what she was talking about, the shape standing out from its companions. "I can see it!"

"That's the first constellation I ever learned how to find." Elsa smiled at Erik, and he smiled back. Then he had to scratch under the mask.

"Oh…that must be uncomfortable." Elsa looked sympathetic, then all at once her eyes widened and brightened. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it before?"

"Think of what?"

"I could make you a mask," Elsa said, "Just like I made my dress. You know, the only one you've seen me in."

"Until now." Erik's eyes involuntarily traveled back to Elsa's gown. It looked like chiffon or something equally filmy and beautiful, and it clung to her slender body. He looked up, just in time to see Elsa's blush.

"Would you like that?" she asked quickly, not meeting his eyes. Erik had a brief flash of fear that he'd offended her.

"Like what—oh. The mask." Now it was his turn to go red in the face, though luckily the mask hid his features. "I think…wouldn't it be cold?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Elsa held out her hands in the air, but Erik stopped her.

"Would you…could you also make a wig to go with it? I don't suppose…it would have to be black. That's the way my old one looked," he added in a lower voice.

"Of course," Elsa said gently. Her eyes looked equally warm, but while they radiated concern and understanding, they also flashed briefly with something else, something Erik had seen before and didn't like—pity. Christine had _pitied _him, though not enough to not-

_This is not Christine, _Erik forcibly reminded himself. This was Elsa. Elsa had looked at his face, in the full uncompromising light of day, and had shown him not fear and loathing but compassion and kindness.

He was distracted from his conflicted thoughts by the sight of Elsa spinning frost into something beautiful. The thing curved, took shape under her slim hands like a sculpture under a potter's skillful hands. Then Elsa held it out to him with a hopeful smile. "What do you think?"

Erik took the thing and examined it. It looked just like his old mask…even down to the detail of only being a half mask, and having a black smooth wig attached.

"Well?" Elsa smiled, her eyes glimmering and deep in the dim, magical silver radiance.

His fingers trembling slightly, Erik turned his head slightly and slipped off his purple mask. Then he slid Elsa's new mask onto his face. The wig covered his whole head, and the whole thing felt cool, but not unbearably so. He turned and stared at Elsa, who was still smiling at him like _he _was the beautiful one.

"I…," Erik's chest felt tight, and he swallowed with great difficulty. "Thank you." His voice came out hoarse and not very steady. "This…this is…perfect."

"I figured you didn't need a full mask," Elsa said. "After all, only one side of your face is scarred." She went stiff, her eyes wide with anxiety. "I…I'm sorry. You don't like…I should have…I'm so sorry."

"It's all right." Erik tried to laugh, but it sounded forced. "It's not as if I don't know what I look like, mademoiselle."

"Elsa," Elsa insisted, her eyes practically pleading. She looked uncomfortable, and probably felt horribly guilty. "Please, call me Elsa."

"All right," Erik managed to smile at her, "Elsa."

The way Elsa's eyes lit up, you would have thought Erik had just bought all of Paris and given it to her for Christmas. She glanced down, her cheeks turning just a hint darker than normal, though it was difficult to tell in the uneven light.

Elsa stayed with Erik, talking and pointing out constellations, until she began to yawn prodigiously. Finally, Erik insisted she go to bed, and after much protesting, Elsa finally left, via window. Before she left, she turned around and smiled at Erik, giving him a little wave, her slender form outlined against the night sky, and outlined in silver.

Erik waved back, and Elsa soon descended, out of sight.

Erik lay back. He didn't get much sleep for the rest of the night, but for the longest time he lay still in the moonlight, staring up at the sky.

He only became aware that he hadn't stopped smiling when his face muscles began to get stiff. It was the first time in his life that Erik could recall smiling too much.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

**A/N: Hi, guys! I HAAAVVEEE RREEETUUURNEDD!**

**However, I'm afraid this return is short-lived. I'm leaving on vacation this weekend and will be gone until the 5****th**** or 6****th**** of August. I know, I'm sorry. But I'm going to devote a lot of my free time on this vacay to writing so that I can update both this and Mask as soon as I get back. Thank you guys so much for all the love, and the patience.**

**Guest reviews:**

PenWieldingRose: Thank you so so much! You made me very happy I'm afraid this chapter doesn't have quite as much romance...it was more to move things forward.

Guest: Wow, thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying it so much!

* * *

The tapping sound slowly tugged Elsa into a murky form of consciousness. At first it barely registered, but then she began to notice it. When it persisted so long that she began to get annoyed by it, then she opened her eyes.

"Your Majesty?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes?" Elsa wished she didn't sound so groggy, but she managed to drag herself upright. Sleepiness still hung on her eyelids like a set of twin miniature weights.

"I just wanted to make sure you were awake." Elsa's foggy mind recognized Gerda the housekeeper's kindly tones. "I knocked twice to say that it was morning, but you never responded. I was getting worried."

"Umm…okay." _Professional, Elsa. Don't sound so uncertain. You may be queen someday. _She could almost hear her mother's voice, and she cleared her throat. "Thank you, Gerda."

"All right, your Majesty."

A shuffling sound moved down the hall. Rubbing her eyes, Elsa yawned enormously, then reluctantly pushed aside the covers to admit cool outside air. Her feet sank into the luxuriant carpet, and Elsa sat still for a moment of quiet.

In that moment, her mind went back to the night before, and a smile spread from ear to ear across her face. Sneaking out had definitely paid off. The look of sheer wonder on Erik's face as he stared up at all the night sky, as if he'd never dreamed that the heavens contained so much beauty, made Elsa feel an echo of that joy herself, and she loved the fact that she'd shown him that, and she'd put that look on his face.

Now _that _was a good feeling.

Then Elsa's mind drifted to the other parts of their conversation. The idea of living in a place, shut off from the sky, seemed stifling—and Elsa knew about stifling. But until her parents died, she always made a habit of going up to the roof with her astronomy teacher. And the older she grew, the more often she would look out the window before she went to bed and see a small part of the starry night sky. While Elsa might not have seen it very often, she at least knew what it looked look on a clear night.

_Where exactly did Erik live before he came here? The way he's talked about it, he fled from there. Maybe from some danger? But why? Why did he need to leave?_

Stretching thoroughly, Elsa stood up. She couldn't hope for answers to every one of those questions right away, and in any case, she couldn't afford to waste much more time this morning.

Elsa respun her "nightgown" into a new blue dress with white puffy sleeves. She rebraided her hair and then went out.

* * *

"Elsa!" Anna's voice pulled Elsa into turning around…just in time to stagger backwards under a flying tackle hug.

"Well, you're glad to see me," Elsa said dryly. "I've only been gone about ten hours."

"Yeah, but…well, I-," Anna pulled back, and her face looked sad, but she blinked. "Nothing."

"No. You were going to tell me something," Elsa prodded gently. "What is it?"

"Well…I just…I just woke up, and I couldn't believe everything that happened over the last few weeks was real." Anna clasped her hands together, swaying back and forth—probably an unconscious habit. "So then I saw you, with your hair down and your dress all different, and out of your room, and I realized it _was, _and…and I just had to hug you," Anna finished, unclasping her hands and smiling up at Elsa somewhat bashfully.

Elsa felt her chest tighten. So many years Anna had spent lonely, glancing at her door with apprehension, wondering if she dared knock and call for Elsa, afraid not of Elsa, exactly, but of being disappointed, as she had been hundreds, possibly thousands of times over the years.

She wrapped her arms around her sister's waist and hugged her close. Anna let out a startled, "Oh-!" but then she squeezed Elsa even tighter than Elsa was holding her.

"I'm very real," she whispered, her eyes stinging, "And I'm never going away again. I'm always going to be here for you, Anna. And I will _never _let you down or abandon you again."

At that, Anna squeezed even tighter, until Elsa croaked, "Anna…need air-,"

"Sorry." Anna loosened her grip, though she didn't let go completely. "Though that's quite a tall order to fill…I mean, nobody's perfect, and everybody's let others down at some point, even with the best of intentions…but thanks for the thought."

"Thank you," Elsa managed, though the words stuck in her throat. She'd almost forgotten that beyond her cheerfulness and boundless energy, Anna seemed to possess enough of her share of wisdom.

_I don't really know her that well, _Elsa realized, and the thought scared her.

_I'd better do all I can to make up for lost time._

Elsa let go of Anna, who did the same. "I'm starving," she said cheerily. "Say, is Erik coming down to breakfast?"

"Who? Oh!" Embarrassed about her moment of forgetfulness, Elsa hastened to reply, but then frowned. "I don't know. I suppose I'd better send someone up to check on him."

Anna raised her eyebrows at Elsa. "Wow, I didn't know you felt that way about him," she stated teasingly. Elsa narrowed her eyes at her. "Anna, what on earth are you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that you blushed when I asked about Erik. Just a little, just a scoche."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Anna!" Elsa rolled her eyes, then realized to her horror that another wave of warmth was creeping into her cheeks. "I was embarrassed that I actually forgot who you were talking about for a moment. That sounds awful," she added reflectively. "Erik isn't an easy person to forget. And I didn't forget him entirely, just for a moment."

"Oh, really?" Anna smirked mischievously, and Elsa stifled a groan. _I'm not helping...just digging myself deeper._

"Let's see what's for breakfast, shall we?" she said quickly, walking towards the dining room again. Rolling her eyes, Anna followed. "As you wish, your Majesty."

* * *

Gerda poked her head politely around the corner of the door in the middle of a funny story from Kristoff. Elsa happened to glance at the door but when she saw her, she beckoned her in.

"I'm sorry, your Majesty," Gerda whispered when she stopped beside Elsa's chair. "Master Erik declined your invitation, saying that he felt unwell, but would be happy to dine with you later in the day."

Elsa's heart sank, but then she brightened. Few people woke as freshly and easily in the morning as she usually did, and if the man felt unwell…wait. How unwell did he feel?

"Is he all right?" She asked, her voice rising a little, her spine stiffening as she sat up straighter. "Do you know…did he say he was sick? How…how did he sound?"

"I don't know, ma'am. Rather tired. He…he simply said he felt unwell," Gerda said, her forehead wrinkling, her whole stance shifting unconsciously.

"That's all right, Gerda. Thank you for being willing to take the trouble yourself." Elsa straightened up and smiled at the older woman to hide her disappointment. "You may go now."

Gerda dipped her head, curtseyed, and smiled, relaxing. "Thank you, your Majesty." She turned and left the room.

Elsa took her spoon of eggs out of the plate where it had been hovering, and brought the food to her mouth. She tried to pay attention to Kristoff and Anna, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed. Last night Erik had been so receptive, warm even, but now…was he really sick or trying to close himself off? Perhaps he was self-conscious of being seen by many people. From what she had seen, he acted much more relaxed when only one or two people were with him.

_At least he said he would see us later, _she reminded herself.

* * *

"I put his royal nuisance on the nearest ship bound for the Southern Isles," Lord Henry, the official herald, said. "He's in the brig, and the sailors will all keep a close eye on him. The men who came here with him are also carrying a letter from us detailing his crimes and leaving it to the judgment of his family as to how to deal with him."

"Excellent," Elsa's good mood evaporated like her winter had. Something in her voice must have shown it, for Lord Henry turned a startled glance towards her. But for once, Elsa felt glad of it. Just thinking about what that man had tried to do to Anna, how he'd taken advantage of her, made Elsa actually wish she'd gotten in Anna's way and punched him. And maybe left him in the fjord for awhile to suffer before pulling him out.

"His ship will set sail in an hour," Lord Henry said.

"I see." An idea suddenly struck Elsa, and she bit her lip.

"May I see him?" she asked.

"Of…course you may, your Majesty." Lord Henry's eyes widened, but he said nothing except, "I believe he has been transferred to the brig of the _Lady of the Waves."_

"Would you care to accompany me there?"

"Now?" Lord Henry looked a little surprised.

"Well…I'll go there when the ship leaves," Elsa said, rather reluctantly. Lord Henry nodded approvingly.

"I will be more than happy to accompany you there," he said. As if to himself, he added, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

Erik was actually able to ignore the knocking at first, but then a voice began calling. "Sir? Sir! Sir, are you awake?"

"I'm all right," Erik grumbled to the pillow. "Go'way."

"Her Majesty the queen has requested me to ask if you would like to have breakfast with her and her sister, and with Kristoff," the voice said.

Erik almost snapped back, then he frowned. Something about what the woman said didn't ring true. Why on earth would the queen of France ask for him, and who in god's name was Kristoff?

_Oh. Wait…_

The events of the last week or so crashed into Erik with stunning force. He lay still, paralyzed by the weight of it, once again. Would he ever again be able to wake and not go through this?

"Mr. Erik? Sir? Are you all right?" The woman's voice kept on tugging at his mind. He summoned up what seemed the last of his reserves of energy to answer.

"I'm all right."

"Would you like to come to breakfast, sir? The queen would like to know if you wish to come."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Erik felt that if he managed to get out of bed in the next few minutes, someone should give him a medal. But then he recalled the night before, with Elsa standing in the attic like a star, her wide blue eyes on his, not judging, not trying to battle suppressed fear, just seeing and understanding.

"I…," _don't know, _he almost said, but then he thought about Anna and Kristoff also being there, and his courage failed him. He could face people later today. Just not right this second.

"I…I'm not feeling very well right now," he raised his voice, though he had an odd futile feeling that the woman would not be able to hear him. "Tell El—tell the queen I am sorry, and I would be happy to dine with her later today. I would make a poor companion now."

"Very well." The woman sounded surprised, but she did not protest. "I'll have some food taken up to you." He heard her feet on the stairs begin to move down and away.

Erik closed his eyes and tried to bury his face in the pillow, but sleep had fled him. Besides, he wasn't sure he wanted to go back to sleep again, not if waking was going to turn into…that.

After several minutes of lying still and feeling increasingly less sleepy, Erik couldn't take it anymore and threw the blanket off and got up. The door in the roof from last night was still open, allowing a square of sunlight to hit the floor in a rectangle so brilliant it almost hurt Erik's eyes, and sending sunbeams filtering and dancing through the room.

Such a small difference made the room seem so different from last night. Everything outside the small area he and Elsa had shared was pitch black, and the moon and stars had made the only light visible, throwing an enchanted veil over that small space.

It almost seemed like a dream.

Then Erik looked to the left and discovered something he had not observed; a fresh suit of clothes laid out over the back of the chaise longue. For a few seconds he felt puzzled, until he remembered how long he'd slept yesterday. Someone must have come in and put these there in his sleep.

A smile crossed his face. Such a small thing suddenly seemed to symbolize that a fresh start was possible now.

He'd take it.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

**A/N: To what loyal readers I have left: I apologize for the atrocious wait. I really, really, REALLY do. Things were just crazy these past few weeks because school has just started up and you all have an idea what that's like…especially in college:P I'm currently taking a full load of classes, not including my voice lesson I managed to squeeze in. I'm also applying for a second part-time job which hopefully I'll find out if I'll get soon. Ah, college…**

**Hopefully this update makes up for the long wait. If not…hopefully it will do to say I'm sorry…**

**Guest reviews: none!**

* * *

About one in the afternoon, Elsa was interrupted by a knock on the door. However, she had anticipated this interruption—in fact, she herself had ordered this interruption, and so she happened to be finishing bringing her work to a stopping point.

Ola came in. "Your Majesty, the Sea Queen is going to set sail in a quarter of an hour."

"Thank you." Elsa stood up, and rang a bell. Seconds later, a guard opened the door and stepped in. "Yes, your Majesty?"

"Send the other man at the door. I want half a dozen members of the royal guard to meet us at the palace gates. I'm going out to see the ship from the Southern Isles off."

"Very good." The guard saluted.

Elsa and Ola departed, taking their time, and went through the palace to the gates.

The guards were there when Elsa arrived, and she felt a sudden twinge of nervousness. While six guards would give an impressive enough official presence, perhaps it would seem too much. Elsa didn't want to give the impression she mistrusted her people that much, and she also didn't want to give Hans the mistaken idea of dignifying her little visit to him to the level of a meeting between two worthy monarchs. But she tried to brush it aside. If she changed now, it would come across as indecisive, and that was one of the things her parents had trained her to avoid if at all practical.

The two lines of guards turned as soon as Elsa reached the threshold of the gates, and saluted. Elsa raised her voice, hoping she sounded confident.

"Thank you, soldiers, for accompanying me."

The guards saluted again, and waited until Elsa had walked halfway through their lines. Then they began also to march, keeping pace with her.

Elsa marched forward, looking straight ahead. She had focused on what she planned to say, and what she wanted to say but couldn't—rulers needed to keep a certain amount of dignity, even when insulting or challenging an enemy. But now, she recalled the coronation and her palms felt slick.

Despite all her elocution and public speaking lessons, complemented with numerous oral practices, Elsa had found herself struggling to keep her composure in front of a large crowd. Probably it came from her isolated years, during which the audiences always numbered three or four at most, and comprised her parents and a tutor, or two, and she'd had to say almost nothing to larger groups. Now little events such as the coronation and ensuing party, and giving this simple order to so many guards made her feel less poised than a queen should. Hopefully it didn't really show.

But—if her luck failed to hold up, there'd be a crowd at the dock, and she would have to summon up a suitable few sentences with which to send off the ambassadors. Why on earth hadn't she thought of that? Inside, Elsa began to feel herself panicking. She didn't feel like a queen anymore, or even a grown woman, more like a scared little girl about seven or eight years old.

Elsa clenched her jaw and tried to force her thoughts away from her fear. What was wrong with her? A true queen shouldn't react like a shy, frightened child at the mere idea of public speaking. She simply hadn't a lot of practice, and that could change, and hopefully soon Elsa would learn. She would do better. She _had_ to do better.

With that resolution, Elsa straightened her spine like a steel rod, and lifted her head high.

* * *

As the queen and her guards neared the docks, more and more people thronged the streets, and soon Elsa could see crowds gathering ahead. She groaned silently. No wonder they made quick progress through fairly light street traffic—at least half the city had turned out to see the ship's departure.

As they proceeded, people began turning to see who was calling to clear them out of the way.

Elsa put on a smile, but as she walked and the crowds opened before her, she felt herself tensing up. Her hands began fiddling with her skirt, and it required all her effort to keep still. Her heart sped up as she felt all these different faces and numerous pairs of eyes belonging to dozens of different people, each of them looking at her, thinking and judging for good or bad. Elsa suddenly felt shaky and timid, not at all poised, and her confident stride became less smooth and forceful. She wanted to escape, she had to get out of there, away from all these people, all these eyes on her. Looking straight ahead didn't help either, because then she could see all the faces of the people turning before they parted to make way for her and her guards.

Elsa tried to breathe through her nose. She turned her head briefly, and found herself looking directly into the eyes of a middle-aged woman.

Her dark hair was pulled back from her careworn face, but her eyes held…depth, of wisdom and experience, and glowed with warmth and kindness. As Elsa passed by, she smiled, and Elsa forgot her fear and dread of making a bad impression, or not seeming more confident than she felt. Almost without realizing it, she found herself smiling back.

Then she passed by and found herself looking into the eyes of a man. He did not smile at all, and his eyes looked cool and hard—not actively hostile, but he didn't look in the least happy to see her. Then she saw a little girl holding the man's hand, looking up at Elsa with wide, curious eyes.

_So many different people, I could do this all day._

Then it struck her—this was it. She could focus on random individuals in the crowd, and thus miss the effect of a large crowd. That she could handle much, much better.

Elsa smiled again. _I can do this. I can really do this._

So she glanced from side to side, focusing in on individuals. Some people smiled, others glanced away quickly, a very few simply stared back. But the overpowering feeling of entrapment and exposure no longer tightened Elsa's chest with terror.

The houses and shops changed from neat and pristine to cottages and open stalls that sold nets, fish, carpentry shops. And the air took on a salty, fishy, tar smell that had grown stronger over the last few minutes.

Soon Elsa noticed masts rising over the low buildings against the clear blue sky. The crowds became even more packed and the guards drew closer, until Elsa was practically brushing shoulders with them. Then they emerged from the narrow street and Elsa's breath caught.

She had never seen anything in her life so beautiful, so vast, so limitless. Mountains had peaks and valleys and her castle had showed vast misty distances, but the sea went on forever—or seemed to. A tug of longing, to travel, to sail off and explore, to go where that blue horizon beckoned welled up in Elsa's chest. She hadn't seen the sea since…well, since before she stopped going outside at all. Maybe that explained how this longing carried a tinge of familiarity, though it had been years since Elsa walked these particular streets and gazed out at these waters.

Then Elsa realized she was on the verge of walking out of the line of her guards, who had turned a little to the right.

She blushed and followed the men towards the ship from the Southern Isles, trying to act as if nothing had happened. As they drew near to the massive galleon, Elsa actually began to notice details about it—the tall masts with sails gathered up around them and the spiderweb of the rigging. It loomed over them as Elsa and her guards neared the ship.

The guards halted at the gangplank. After a moment's hesitation, Elsa proceeded. The ship made her feel small. Though the wooden gangplank was wide enough for two people Elsa's size to walk abreast, Elsa still wished it had a railing. Beneath her feet, the water swirled, dark in the ship's shadow, and far more threatening than alluring.

As she reached the top and stepped onto the gently swaying deck, Elsa saw the ambassadors from the Southern Isles waiting for her. They bowed to the waist upon catching sight of her, and Elsa inclined her head.

"On behalf of our country," Lord Andre, the one with the moustache, said, "We thank your Majesty for the hospitality we received in Arendelle."

_Hospitality? More like the chilliest reception of all time, _Elsa thought. She did not voice her surprise and uncertainty. "Thank you, gentlemen." She cleared her throat as it sounded slightly raspy. "I am truly sorry we could not offer you better welcome than was provided—however, I am glad you seem to have enjoyed your stay. In future, you and your countryman will be more than welcome."

The ambassador's eyes widened in what looked like genuine surprise, but then he bowed lower. "Your Majesty is most gracious."

Elsa smiled, with more real warmth than she had managed before. In her nervous inner guilt trip over recent events, she had forgotten that the Southern Isles had returned the favor in some measure. True, it was only Prince Hans, acting independently, as far as they knew, but still. His actions had definitely left rather a stain on the name of the government of the land, and they too must be anxious to mend the fence he had tried to tear down. That made Elsa feel a little more secure.

"May you travel in safety and comfort," she raised her voice, "and reach your destination in peace."

"Thank you for your good wishes," another ambassador…what was his name? Elsa thought, rather anxiously, before remembering she would not see him again for some time.

Elsa nearly turned to go before she remembered one last thing. "Oh," she added in a lower voice, "May I see Prince Hans?"

The men exchanged a quick glance, then Lord Andre spoke up. "Of course, your Majesty."

She followed them off to the left, just past the stairs leading up to another deck…was it the poop deck? Then Elsa observed bars, and as she got closer, she could see a small, cramped space, cut off with crossed iron from the rest of the ship.

The men parted, and Elsa saw the man within, slumped over, and not looking nearly so regal. He seemed to sense her presence, however, and looked up, straightening and drawing himself up haughtily before his eyes even rested on her face.

Elsa stared into his eyes. Something dark and icily burning gathered in her chest. She never meant to lash out at Anna, at Whistleton's oldest ambassador. But for the first time, she wanted to lash out at this man. She tried to breathe deeply to calm herself, and the anger.

Hans' eyes widened as he recognized her, then they hardened. But behind the glare, Elsa saw something shrinking, and sensed he would have bolted had there been anywhere to run.

_Good, _she thought, before she recalled what she'd meant to say.

"Hans," she said, her voice flat and hard.

"What do you want?" Hans' voice was hard and angry—a little too angry, and too sudden, despite his proud rigid posture. Elsa definitely saw that shifting in his gaze as he glanced from the ambassadors to her, and couldn't hold her gaze.

"I am sending you back home," Elsa stated, trying to keep her voice level and as cold as possible. "Your brothers and their advisors will decide your fate. I am laying that responsibility on them, because I trust their judgment, and their discretion. You're their problem now. Whether they strip you of your title, kill you, or let you live, your fate is not my concern." She leaned closer, so that her face almost touched the bars and her shadow fell over Hans. And this time she deliberately tried to send a wave of cold air through the bars.

"But if you ever set foot on the soil of our country, if you ever attempt to harm me or my sister, or anyone close to us, again, then you will become my problem. And then no one else will deal with it. No one will deal with you but me."

Hans stared into Elsa's eyes, his jaw working. He had backed up against the wall, probably without noticing, and he was fighting back a shiver. Fury struggled with fear in his eyes, and deep down, Elsa relished it.

"You showed my sister no mercy." Just like that, her voice had turned to almost a growl. "If you expect more from me, you're a fool."

She stood up, and turned to the ambassadors, and bowed her head. "Thank you, my lords." She raised her voice. "Have a safe and pleasant voyage."

Elsa turned and swept over the deck and towards the gangplank. Her legs felt suddenly weak, but somehow the sight of the crowds didn't snatch all her self-confidence as before. She felt something strong inside her supporting her, keeping a broad smile on her face.

_I have nothing to fear. I AM a queen, after all._


End file.
